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A  NEW  HOME-WHO'LL  FOLLOW ! 


GLIMPSES  OF  WESTERN  LIFE. 


BY 

MRS.    MARY    CLAVERS, 

AN    ACTUAL    SETTLER. 

Ladies— or  fair  ladies— I  would  w'sh  you—or  I  would  requrstyou,  or  I  would  entreat  yo 
not  to  fear — not  lo  tremble  ;  my  life  foryour.--. 

MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S  DREAM. 

A  show,  as   it  were,  of  an   accompanable  solitariness,  and   of  a  civil  wildness. 

SIDNEY'S  ARCADIA. 


2Tf)  irti 


NE  W-YORK: 

CHARLES     S.     FRANCIS,     NO.    252    BROADWAY. 

BOSTON : 

J.  H.  FRANCIS,   128  W  A  S  HI  NG  T  O  N  -  ST. 
1841. 


Entered,  according    to  the   Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1839, 

@v  ©KiAjains  g0  FG3A!Ki©D@p 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New-York. 


PRINTED   BY   MUNROE    AND 
FRANCIS. 


PREFACE. 


I  AM  glad  to  be  told  by  those  who  live  in  the 
world,  that  it  has  lately  become  fashionable  to  read 
prefaces.  I  wish  to  say  a  few  words,  by  way  of 
introduction,  to  a  work  which  may  be  deemed  too 
slight  to  need  a  preface,  but  which  will  doubtless  be 
acknowledged  to  require  some  recommendation. 

I  claim  for  these  straggling  and  cloudy  crayon 
sketches  of  life  and  manners  in  the  remoter  parts  of 
Michigan  the  merit  of  general  truth  of  outline.  Be 
yond  this  I  venture  not  to  aspire.  I  felt  somewhat 
.tempted  to  set  forth  my  little  book  as  being  entirely 
— what  it  is  very  nearly — a  veritable  history  ;  an  un 
impeachable  transcript  of  reality  ;  a  rough  picture, 
in  detached  parts,  but  pentagraphed  from  the  life  5 
a  sort  of  '  Emigrant's  Guide  :' — considering  with 
myself  that  these  my  adventurous  journeyings  and 


IV  PREFACE. 

tarryings  beyond  the  confines  of  civilization  might 
fairly  be  held  to  confer  the  traveller's  privilege.  But 
conscience  prevailed,  and  I  must  honestly  confess, 
that  there  be  glosses,  and  colorings,  and  lights,  if  not 
shadows,  for  which  the  author  is  alone  accountable. 
1  Journals,  published  entire  and  unaltered,  should  be 
Parthian  darts,  sent  abroad  only  when  one's  back  is 
turned.  To  throw  them  in  the  teeth  of  one's  every 
day  associates  might  diminish  one's  popularity 
rather  inconveniently.  I  would  desire  the  courteous 
reader  to  bear  in  mind,  however,  that  whatever  is 
quite  unnatural,  or  absolutely  incredible,  in  the  few 
incidents  which  diversify  the  following  pnges,  is  to 
be  received  as  literally  true.  It  is  only  in  the  most 
common-place  parts  (if  there  be  comparisons)  that  I 
have  any  leasing-making  to  answer  for. 

It  vull  of  course  be  observed  that  Miss  Mil  ford's 
/charming  sketches  of  village  life  must  have  sugges 
ted  the  form  of  my  rude  attempt.  I  dare  r.ot  flatter 
myself  that  any  one  will  be  led  to  accuse  me  cf  fur 
ther  imitation  of  a  deservedly  prpular  writer.  And 
with  such  brief  salvo,  I  make  my  humble  curtsey. 

M.  c. 


A    NEW    HOME. 


CHAPTER  1. 

Here  are  seen 

No   traces  of  man's  pomp   and   pride  ;   no  silks 
Rustle,   nor  jewels   shine,   nor  envious   eyes 
Encounter.         ***** 

Oh,   there    is   not   lost 

One  of  earth's   charms  ;   upon  her   bosom   yet 
After  the   flight  of  untold  centuries 
The  freshness  of  her  fu-r   beginning  lies.  BRI 


OUR  friends  in  the  '  settlements'  have  expressed 
so  much  interest  in  such  of  our  letters  to  them,  as 
happened  to  convey  any  account  of  the  peculiar  fea 
tures  of  western  life,  and  have  asked  so  many 
questions,  touching  particulars  which  we  had 
not  thought  worthy  of  mention,  that  I  have  been 
for  some  time  past  contemplating  the  possibility  of 
something  like  a  detailed  account  of  our  experiences. 
And  I  have  determined  to  give  them  to  the  world, 
in  a  form  not  very  different  from  that  in  which  they 
were  originally  recorded  for  our  private  delectation  ; 
nothing  doubting,  that  a  veracious  history  of  actual 
occurrences,  an  unvarnished  transcript  of  real  char 
acters,  and  an  impartial  record  of  every-day  forms 
of  speech  (taken  down  in  many  cases  from  the  lips 
of  the  speaker)  will  be  pronounced  'graphic'  by  at 
least  a  fair  proportion  of  the  journalists  of  the  day* 
2 


6  ANEWHOME, 

It  is  true  there  are  but  meagre  materials  for  any 
thing  that  might  be  called  a  story.  I  have  never 
seen  a  cougar — nor  been  bitten  by  a  rattlesnake. 
The  reader  who  has  patience  to  go  with  me  to  the 
i  close  of  my  desultory  sketches,  must  expect  nothing 
beyond  a  meandering  recital  of  common-place  oc 
currences — mere  gossip  about  every-day  people,  lit 
tle  enhanced  in  value  by  any  fancy  or  ingenuity  of 
I  the  writer  ;  in  short,  a  very  ordinary  pen-drawing  ; 
which,  deriving  no  interest  from  coloring,  can  be 
valuable  only  for  its  truth. 

A  home  on  the  outskirts  of  civilization — habits 
of  society  which  allow  the  maid  and  her  mistress  to 
do  the  honors  in  complete  equality,  and  to  make  the 
social  tea  visit  in  loving  conjunction — such  a  distri 
bution  of  the  duties  of  life  as  compels  all,  without 
distinction,  to  rise  with  the  sun  or  before  him — to 
breakfast  with  the  chickens — then, 

"  Count  the  slow  clock,  and  dine  exact  at  noon" — 

to  be  ready  for  tea  at  four,  and  for  bed  at  eight — 
may  certainly  be  expected  to  furnish  some  curious 
particulars  for  the  consideration  of  those  whose  dai 
ly  course  almost  reverses  this  primitive  arrange 
ment — who  '  call  night  day  and  day  night,'  and 
who  are  apt  occasionally  to  forget,  when  speaking 
of  a  particular  class,  that  '  those  creatures  '  are  par 
takers  with  themselves  of  a  common  nature. 

I  can  only  wish,  like  other  modest  chroniclers, 
my  respected  prototypes,  that  so  fertile  a  theme  had 
fallen  into  worthier  hands.  If  Miss  Mitford,  who 
has  given  us  such  charming  glimpses  of  Aberleigh, 
Hilton  Cross  and  the  Loddon,  had  by  some  happy 
chance  been  translated  to  Michigan,  what  would 
she  not  have  made  of  such  materials  as  Tinkerville, 
Montacute,  and  the  Turnip  ? 


FOLLOW?  7 

When  my  husband  purchased  two  hundred  acres 
of  wild  land  on  the  banks  of  this  to-be-celebrated 
stream,  and  drew  with  a  piece  of  chalk  on  the  bar 
room  table  at  Danforth's  the  plan  of  a  village,  I  lit 
tle  thought  I  was  destined  to  make  myself  famous 
by  handing  down  to  posterity  a  faithful  record  of 
the  advancing  fortunes  of  that  favored  spot. 

1  The  madness  of  the  people '  in  those  days  of 
golden  dreams  took  more  commonly  (he  form  of 
city-building  ;  but  there  were  a  few  who  contented 
themselves  with  planning  villages,  on  the  banks  of 
streams  which  certainly  never  could  be  expected  to 
bear  navies,  but  which  might  yet  be  turned  to  ac 
count  in  the  more  homely  way  of  grinding  or  saw 
ing — operations  which  must  neccessarily  be  perform 
ed  somewhere  for  the  well  being  of  those  very  cit 
ies.  It  is  of  one  of  these  humble  attempts  that  it  is 
my  lot  to  speak,  and  I  make  my  confession  at  the 
outlet,  warning  any  fashionable  reader,  who  may 
have  taken  up  my  book,  that  I  intend  to  be  *  deci 
dedly  low.' 

Whether  the  purchaser  of  our  village  would  have 
been  moderate  under  all  possible  circumstances,  i 
am  not  prepared  to  say,  since,  never  having  enjoyed 
a  situation  under  government,  his  resources  have 
not  been  unlimited  ;  and  for  this  reason  any  remark 
which  may  be  hazarded  in  the  course  of  these  my 
lucubrations  touching  the  more  magnificent  plans  of 
wealthier  aspirants,  must  be  received  with  some 
grains  of  allowance.  '  Jl  est  plus  aise  d'etre  sage! 
pour  les  autres,  que  de  Petre  pour  soi-meme.' 

When  I  made  my  first  visit  to  these  remote  and 
lonely  regions,  the  scattered  woods  through  which 
we  rode  for  many  miles  were  gay  in  their  first  gos 
ling-green  suit  of  half-opened  leaves,  and  the  forest 


8  ANEWHOMETr 

odors  which  exhaled  with  the  dews  of  morning'  and 
evening,  were  beyond  measure  delicious  to  one 
i  long  in  populous  cities  pent.'  I  desired  much  to 
be  a  little  sentimental  at  the  time,  and  feel  tempted 
to  indulge  to  some  small  extent  even  here — but  I 
forbear  ;  and  shall  adhere  closely  to  matters  more 
in  keeping  with  my  subject. 

I  think,  to  be  precise,  the  time  was  the  last,  the 
very  last  of  April,  and  I  recollect  well  that  even  at 
that  early  season,  by  availing  myself  with  sedulous 
application,  of  those  times  when  I  was  fain  to  quit 
the  vehicle  through  fear  of  the  perilous  mud-holes, 
or  still  more  perilous  half-bridged  marshes,  I  picked 
upwards  of  twenty  varieties  of  wild-flowers — some 
of  them  of  rare  and  delicate  beauty  ; — and  sure  I 
am,  that  if  I  had  succeeded  in  inspiring  my  com 
panion  with  one  spark  of  my  own  floral  enthusiasm, 
one  hundred  miles  of  travel  would  have  occupied  a 
week's  time. 

The  wild-flowers  of  Michigan  deserve  a  poet  of 
their  own.  Shelley,  who  sang  so  quaintly  of  l  the 
pied  wind  flowers  and  the  tulip  tall,'  would  have 
found  many  a  fanciful  comparison  and  deep-drawn 
meaning  for  the  thousand  gems  of  the  road-side. 
Charles  Lamb  could  have  written  charming  volumes 
about  the  humblest  among  them.  Bulwer  would 
find  means  to  associate  the  common  three-leaved 
white  lily  so  closely  with  the  Past,  the  Present,  and 
the  Future — the  Wind,  the  Stars,  and  the  Tripod 
of  Delphos,  that  all  future  botanists,  and  eke  all  fu 
ture  philosophers,  might  fail  to  unravel  the  '  linked 
sweetness.'  We  must  have  a  poet  of  our  own. 

Since  I  have  casually  alluded  to  a  Michigan  mud 
hole,  I  may  as  well  enter  into  a  detailed  memoir  on 
the  subject,  for  the  benefit  of  future  travellers,  who 


FOLLOW/  y 

flying  over  the  soil  on  rail-roads,  may  look  slight 
ingly  back  upon  the  achievements  of  their  prede 
cessors.  In  the  '  settlements,'  a  mud-hole  is  con 
sidered  as  apt  to  occasion  an  unpleasant  jolt — a 
breaking  of  the  thread  of  one's  reverie — or  in  ex 
treme  cases,  a  temporary  stand-still,  or  even  an  over 
turn  of  the  rash  and  unwary.  Here,  on  approach 
ing  one  of  these  characteristic  features  of  the  'West' 
— (how  much  does  that  expression  mean  to  include? 
I  never  have  been  able  to  discover  its  limits) — the 
driver  stops — alights — walks  up  to  the  dark  gulf — 
and  around  it,  if  he  can  get  round  it.  He  then 
seeks  a  long  pole  and  sounds  it,  measures  it  across 
to  ascertain  how  its  width  compares  with  the  length 
of  his  wagon — tries  whether  its  sides  are  perpen 
dicular,  as  is  usually  the  case  if  the  road  is  much 
used.  If  he  find  it  not  more  than  three  feet  deep, 
he  remounts  cheerily,  encourages  his  team,  and  in 
they  go,  with  a  plunge  and  a  shock,  rather  apt  to 
damp  the  courage  of  the  inexperienced.  If  the 
hole  be  narrow,  the  hinder  wheels  will  be  quite  lift 
ed  off  the  ground  by  the  depression  of  their  prece 
dents,  and  so  remain  until  by  unwearied  chiruping 
and  some  judicious  touches  of  'the  string'  the 
horses  are  induced  to  struggle  as  for  their  lives ;  and 
if  the  Fates  are  propitious  they  generally  emerge  on 
the  opposite  side,  dragging  the  vehicle,  or  at  least 
the  fore-wheels  after  them.  When  1  first  '  penetra 
ted  the  interior,'  (to  use  an  indigenous  phrase,)  all  I 
knew  of  the  wilds  was  from  Hoffman's  Tour  or 
Captain  Hall's  'graphic'  delineations.  1  had  some 
floating  idea  of  '  driving  a  barouche-and-four  any 
wherethrough  the  oak-openings' — and  seeing  'the 
murdered  Banquos  of  the  forest'  haunting  the  scenes 
of  their  departed  strength  and  beauty.  But  I  con- 


10  J*      NEW     HOME, 

fess,  these  pictures,  touched  by  the  glowing  pencil 
of  fancy,  gave  ma  but  incorrect  notions  of  a  real 
journey  through  Michigan. 

Our  vehicle  was  not  perhaps  very  judiciously  cho- 
sen — as  least  we  have  since  thought  so.     It  was  a 
light  high-hung  carriage — of  the  description    com 
monly  known  as  a  buggy  or  shandrydan — names, 
of  which  1  would  be  glad  to  learn   the  etymology, 
I  seriously  advise  any  of  my  friends,  who  are  about 
flitting  to  Wisconsin  or  Oregon,   to  prefer  a   heavy 
lumber-wagon,  even   for  the  use  of  the    ladies  of  the 
family  ;   very  little  aid  or  consolation  being  derived 
from  making  a  '  genteel  '  appearance  in  such  cases. 
At  the  first  encounter  of  such  a  mud-hole  as  I  have 
attempted   to  describe,  we   stopped  in    utter  despair, 
My  companion  indeed  would   fain   have    persuaded 
me  that  the  many  wheel  tracks  which  passed  through 
the  formidable  gulf  were  proof  positive  that  it  might 
be  forded.     1  insisted  with  all  a  woman's   obstinacy 
that  I  could  not  and    would  not  make   the  attempt, 
and  alighted  accordingly,  and  tried  to  find  a  path  on 
one  side   or  the  other.     But  in    vain,  even    putting 
out  of  the   question  my  paper-soled    shoes — sensible 
things  for  the  woods.     The  ditch  on  each  side  was 
filled  with  water  and  quite  too  wide  to  jump  over  ; 
and  we  were  actually  contemplating  a  return,  when 
a  man  in  an  immense   bear-skin    cap   and  a  suit  of 
deer's  hide,  sprang  from  behind  a  sturnpjust   within 
the  edge    of  the   forest,     lie   '  poled '  himself  over 
the  ditch  in  a  moment,  and    stood  beside   us,  rifle  in 
hand,  as  wild  and  rough  a  specimen  of  humanity  as 
one  would  wish  to  encounter  in  a  strange  and  lone 
ly  road,  just  at  the  shadowy  dusk  of  the  evening.     I 
did  not   scream,    though  1  own  I  was   prodigiously 
frightened.     But  our  stranger  said    immediately,  in 
a  gentle  tone  and  with  a  French  accent,    'Me  watch 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  11 

deer — you  want  to  cross  T  On  receiving  an  answer 
in  the  affirmative,  he  ran  in  search  of  a  rail,  which 
he  threw  over  the  terrific  mud-hole — aided  me  to 
walk  across  by  the  help  of  his  pole — showed  my 
husband  where  to  plunge— waited  till  he  had  gone 
safely  through,  and  '  slow  circles  dimpled  o'er  the 
quaking  mud' — then  took  himself  off  by  the  way 
he  carne^  declining  any  com  pen  Ballon  with  a  most 
polite  '  rien  !  Hen  !'  This  instance  of  true  and  gen 
uine  and  generous  politeness  1  record  for  the  benefit  v 
of  all  bearskin  caps,  leathern  jerkins,  and  cowhide 
boots,  which  ladies  from  the  eastward  world  may 
hereafter  encounter  in  Michigan. 

Our  journey  was  marked  by  no  incident  more 
alarming  than  the  one  1  have  related,  though  one 
night  passed  in  a  wretched  inn,  deep  in  the  'timber 
ed  land  ' — as  all  woods  are  called  in  Michigan — was 
not  without  its  terrors,  owing  to  the  horrible  drunk 
enness  of  the  master  of  the  house,  whose  wife  and 
children  were  in  constant  fear  of  their  lives  frcm  his^ 
insane  fury.  1  can  never  forget  the  countenance  of 
that  desolate  woman,  sitting  trembling,  and  with 
white  compressed  lips,  in  the  midst  of  her  children. 
The  father  raving  all  night,  and  coming  through 
our  sleeping  apartment  with  the  earliest  ray  of  morn 
ing,  in  search  of  more  of  the  poison  already  boiling 
in  his  veins.  The  poor  wife  could  not  forbear  tell 
ing  me  her  story — her  change  of  lot — from  a  well- 
stored  and  comfortable  home  in  Connecticut  to  this 
wretched  den  in  the  wilderness — herself  and  chil 
dren  worn  almost  to  shadows  with  the  ague,  and 
her  husband  such  as  I  have  described  him.  I  may 
mention  here,  that  not  very  long  after,  1  heard  of 
this  man  in  prison  in  Detroit,  for  stabbing  a  neigh 
bor  in  a  drunken  brawl,  and  ere  the  year  was  out 
he  died  of  delirium  tremens,  leaving  his  family  des- 


12 


A     NEW     HOME 


titute.  So  much  for  turning  our  fields  of  golden 
grain  into  'firewater' — a  branch  of  business  in 
which  Michigan  is  fast  improving. 

Our  ride  being  a  deliberate  one,  I  felt,  after  the 
third  day,  a  little  wearied,  and  began  to  complain 
of  the  sameness  of  the  oak-openings,  and  to  wish 
we  were  fairly  at  our  journey's  end.  We  were 
crossing  a  broad  expanse  of  what  seemed,  at  a  little 
distance,  a  smooth  shaven  lawn  of  the  most  brilliant 
green,  but  which  proved  on  trial  little  better  than 
a  quaking  bog — embracing  within  its  ridgy  circum 
ference  all  possible  varieties  of 

'  Muirs  and  mosses,  slaps   and  styles — ' 

I  had  just  indulged  in  something  like  a  yawn,  and 
wished  that  I  could  see  our  hotel.  At  the  word, 
my  companion's  face  assumed  rather  a  comical  ex 
pression,  and  1  was  preparing  to  inquire  somewhat 
testily  what  there  was  so  laughable — I  was  getting 
tired  and  cross,  reader — when  down  came  our  good 
horse  to  the  very  chin  in  a  bog-hole,  green  as  Erin 
on  the  top,  but  giving  way  on  the  touch,  and  seem 
ing  deep  enough  to  have  engulfed  us  entirely,  if  its 
width  had  been  proportionate.  Down  came  the 
horse — and  this  was  not  all — down  came  the  driver; 
and  I  could  not  do  less  than  follow,  though  at  a  lit 
tle  distance — our  good  steed  kicking  and  flounder 
ing — covering  us  with  hieroglyphics,  which  would 
be  readily  deciphered  by  any  "Wolverine  we  should 
meet,  though  perchance  strange  to  the  eyes  of  our 
friends  at  home.  This  mishap  was  spon  amended. 
Tufts  of  long  marsh  grass  served  to  assoilize  our 
habiliments  a  little,  and  a  clear  stream  which  rippled 
through  the  marsh  aided  in  removing  the  eclipse 
from  our  faces.  Wre  journeyed  on  cheerily,  watch 
ing  the  splendid  changes  in  the  west,  but  keeping  a 
bright  look  out  for  bog-holes. 


FOLLOW?  13 


CHAPTER    IT. 


Think  us   no  churls,   nor  measure   our  good    minds 

By   this  rude  place    we   live   in.  CYMBELINE. 


THE  sun  had  just  set  when  we  stopped  at  the 
tavern,  and  I  then  read  the  cause  of  my  compan 
ion's  quizzical  look.  My  Hotel  was  a  log-house  of 
diminutive  size,  with  corresponding  appurtenances  ; 
and  from  the  moment  we  entered  its  door  I  was  in 
a  fidget  to  know  where  we  could  possibly  sleep.  I 
was  then  new  in  Michigan.  Our  good  hostess  rose 
at  once  with  a  nod  of  welcome. 

*  Well !  is  this  Miss  Clavers  ?  '  (my  husband  had 
been  there  before) — '  well  !  I  want  to  know  !  why 
do  tell  if  you  have  been  upsot  in  the  mash  ?  why 
I  want  to  know  ! — and  didn't  ye  hurt  ye  none  ? — 
Come,  gals,  fly  round,  and  let's  git  some  supper.' 

'  But  you'll  not  be  able  to  lodge  us,  Mrs  Dan- 
forth,'  said  I,  glancing  at  three  young  men  and  some 
boys,  who  appeared  to  have  come  in  from  their  work, 
and  who  were  lounging  on  one  side  of  the  immense 
open  chimney. 

'  Why,  bless  your  heart  !  yes  I  shall  ;  don't  you 
fret  yourself  ;  I'll  give  you  as  good  a  bed  as  any 
body  need  want.' 

I  cast  an  exploring  look,  and  now  discovered  a 
door  opposite  the  fire. 


14  ANEWHOME, 

1  list  step  in  here,'  said  Mrs.  Danforth,  opening 
this  door,  i  jist  come  in  and  take  off  your  things, 
and  lop  down,  if  you  're  a  mind  to.  while  we  're  a 
getting  supper.' 

I  followed  her  into  the  room,  if  room  it  might  be 
called,  a  strip  partitioned  off,  just  six  feet  wide,  so 
that  a  bed  was  accurately  fitted  in  at  each  end,  and 
a  square  space  remained  vacant  between  the  two. 

1  We  've  been  getting  this  room  made  lately,  and 
I  tell  you  it 's  real  nice,  so  private  like  !'  said  our 
hostess,  with  a  complacent  air.  '  Here,'  she  contin 
ued,  '  in  this  bed  the  gals  sleeps,  and  that 's  my  bed 
and  the  old  man's  ;  and  then  here  's  a  truncUe-bed 
for  Sally  and  Jane,'  and  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word,  she  drew  out  the  trundle-bed  as  far  as  out 
standing-place  would  allow,  to  show  me  how  con 
venient  it  was. 

Here  was  my  grand  problem  still  unsolved  !  If 
*  me  and  the  old  man,'  and  the  girls,  and  Sally  and 
Jane,  slept  in  this  strip,  there  certainly  could  be  no 
room  for  more,  and  I  thought  with  dismay  of  the 
low-browed  roof,  which  had  seemed  to  me  to  rest  on 
the  tops  of  the  window-frames.  And,  to  make  a 
long  story  short,  though  manifold  were  the  runnings 
up  and  down,  and  close  the  whisperings,  before  all 
was  ready,  I  was  at  length  ushered  up  a  steep  and 
narrow  stick  ladder  into  the  sleeping  apartment. 
Here,  surrounded  by  beds  of  all  sizes  spread  on  the 
floor,  was  a  bedstead,  placed  under  the  peak  of  the 
roof  in  order  to  gain  space  for  its  height;  and  round 
this  state-bed,  for  such  it  evidently  was,  although 
not  supplied  with  pillows  at  each  end,  all  the  men 
and  boys  I  had  seen  below  stairs  were  to  repose. 
Sundry  old  quilts  were  fastened  by  forks  to  the  raf 
ters  in  such  a  way  as  to  serve  as  a  partial  screen, 


FOLLOW?  15 

and  with  this  I  was  obliged  to  be  content.  Exces 
sive  fatigue  is  not  fastidious.  I  called  to  mind  some 
canal-boat  experiences,  and  resigned  myself  to  the 
1  honey-heavy  dew  of  slumber.' 

I  awoke  with  a  sense  of  suffocation — started  up 
— all  was  dark  as  the  Hall  of  Eblis.  I  called  ;  no 
answer  came  ;  1  shrieked  !  and  up  ran  one  of  the 
1  gals.' 

'  What  on  airth's  the  matter  ?' 

'Where  am  I?  What  ails  me?'  said  I,  begin 
ning  to  feel  a  little  awkward  when  I  heard  the  dam 
sel's  voice. 

'  Why,  I  guess  you  was  scairt,  wa'n't  ye  ?' 

1  Why  am  I  in  the  dark  ?     Is  it  morning  ?' 

1  Morning  ?  why,  the  boys  has  been  gone  away 
this  hour,  and,  you 'see,  there  a'n't  no  winder  up 
here,  but  I'll  take  down  this  here  quilt,  and  then  I 
guess  you'll  be  able  to  see  some.' 

She  did  so,  and  I  began  to  discern 

'  A  faint  shadow  of  uncertain  light,' 

which,  after  my  eyes  had  become  somewhat  accus 
tomed  to  it,  served  very  well  to  dress  by. 

Upon  dsscending  the  ladder,  I  found  our  break 
fast  prepared  on  a  very  neat-looking  table,  and  Mrs 
Danforth  with  her  clean  apron  on,  ready  to  do  the 
honors. 

Seeing  me  looking  round  with  inquiring  eye,  she 
said,  '  O,  you'm  lookin'  for  a  wash-dish,  a'n't  ye  ? ' 
and  forthwith  put  some  water  into  a  little  iron  skil 
let,  and  carried  it  out  to  a  bench  which  stood  under 
the  eaves,  where  1  performed  my  very  limited  ablu 
tions  al  fresco,  not  at  all  pleased  with  this  part  of 
country  habits. 

1  be!  bought  me  of  a  story  I  had  heard  before  we 
crossed  the  line,  of  a  gentleman  travelling  in  Michi- 


16 

gan,  who,  instead  of  a  *  wash  dish,'  was  directed  to 
the  spring,  and  when  he  requested  a  towel  received 
for  answer — '  why  I  should  think  you  had  a  ban- 
kercher.' 

After  breakfast  I  expressed  a  wish  to  accompany 
Mr  Clavers  to  the  village  tract  ;  but  he  thought  a 
very  bad  marsh  would  make  the  ride  unpleasant. 

*  Lord  bless  ye  ! '  said  Mr  Dan  forth,  c  that  mash 
has  got  a  real  handsome  bridge  over  it  since  you 
was  here  last.' 

So  we  set  out  in  the  buggy  and  rode  several  miles 
through  an  alternation  of  open  glades  with  fine 
walnut  trees  scattered  over  them,  and  t  bosky  dells ' 
fragrant  as  '  Araby  the  blest'  at  that  delicious  hour, 
when  the  dews  filled  the  air  with  the  scent  of  the 
bursting  leaves. 

By-and-by  we  came  to  the  '  beautiful  bridge,'  a 
newly-laid  causeway  of  large  round  logs,  with  a 
'  slough  of  despond '  to  be  crossed,  in  order  to  reach 
it.  I  would  not  consent  to  turn  back,  however,  and 
in  we  went,  the  buggy  standing  it  most  commenda- 
bly.  When  we  reached  the  first  log  our  poor  Rozi- 
nante  stopped  in  utter  despair,  and  some  persuasion 
was  necessary  to  induce  him  to  rear  high  enough  to 
place  his  fore-feet  upon  the  bridge  •  and  when  he 
accomplished  this  feat,  and  after  a  rest  essayed  to 
make  the  buggy  rear  too,  it  was  neck  or  nothing. 
Yet.  up  we  went,  and  then  came  the  severe  part  of 
the  achievement,  a  *  beautiful  bridge '  half  a  mile 
long  ! 

Half  a  rod  was  enough  for  me  ;  I  cried  for  quar 
ter,  and  was  permitted  to  pick  my  way  over  its  slip 
pery  eminences,  to  the  utter  annihilation  of  a  pair 
of  Lane's  shoes. 


FOLLOW?  17 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  greatness  of  an  estate,  in  bulk  and  territory,  doth  fall,  under  mea 
sure  ;  and  the  greatness  of  finances  and  revenue  doth  fall,  under  computation, 
*  *  *  By  all  means  it  is  to  be  procured,  that  the  trtwik  of  Nebuchadnezzar's 
tree  of  monarchy  be  great  eiKmgh  t«  bear  tlw  branches  and  the  boughs. 

BACON. 


THE  morning  passed  in  viewing  and  reviewing 
the  village  site  and  the  i  mill  privilege,'  under  the 
condescending  guidance  of  a  regular  land  specula 
tor,  into  whose  clutches  ....  but  I  anticipate. 

The  public  square,  the  water  lots,  the  value  per 
foot  of  this  undulating  surface,  clothed  as  it  then 
was  with  burr-oaks,  and  haunted  by  the  red  deer  ; 
these  were  almost  too  much  for  my  gravity.  1  gave 
my  views,  however,  as  to  the  location  of  the  grand 
esplanade,  and  particularly  requested  that  the  fine 
oaks  which  now  graced  it  might  be  spared  when 
the  clearing  process  commenced. 

'  Oh,  certainly,  mem  !'  said  our  Dousterswivel, 
c  a  place  that's  designed  for  a  public  promenade  must 
not  be  divested  of  shade  trees  !'  Yet  I  believe  these 
very  trees  were  the  first  '  Banquos  '  at  Montacute. 
The  water  lots,  which  were  too  valuable  to  sell  save 
by  the  foot,  are  still  in  the  market,  and  will  proba 
bly  remain  there  for  the  present. 

This  factotum,  this  Mr  Mazard,  was  an  odd- 
looking  creature,  with  '  diverse  ocular  foci,'  and  a 
3 


18  A     NEW     HOME, 

form  gaunt  enough  to  personify  Graham isrn.  His 
words  sometimes  flowed  in  measured  softness,  and 
sometimes  tumbled  over  each  other,  in  his  anxiety 
to  convince,  to  persuade,  to  inspire.  His  air  of  ear 
nest  conviction,  of  sincere  anxiety  for  your  interest, 
and,  above  all,  of  entire  forgetfulness  of  his  own, 
was  irresistible.  People  who  did  not  know  him  al 
ways  believed  every  word  he  said  ;  at  least  so  I 
have  since  been  informed. 

This  gentleman  had  kindly  undertaken  to  lay 
out  our  village,  to  build  a  mill,  a  tavern,  a  store,  a 
blacksmith's  shop  ;  houses  for  cooper,  miller,  (fee.  &c. 
to  purchase  the  large  tracts  which  would  be  requir 
ed  for  the  mill-pond,  a  part  of  which  land  was  al 
ready  improved  ;  and  all  this,  although  sure  to  cost 
Mr  Clavers  an  immense  sum,  he,  from  his  experi 
ence  of  the  country,  his  large  dealings  with  saw 
mills,  (fee.  would  be  able  to  accomplish  at  a  very 
moderate  cost.  The  mill,  for  instance,  was  to  be  a 
story  and  a  half  high,  and  to  cost  perhaps  twenty- 
five  hundred  dollars  at  the  utmost.  The  tavern,  a 
cheap  building  of  moderate  size,  built  on  the  most 
popular  plan,  and  connected  with  a  store,  just  large 
enough  for  the  infant  needs  of  the  village,  reserving 
our  strength  for  a  splendid  one — I  quote  Mr  Maz- 
ard — to  be  built  out  of  the  profits  in  about  three 
years.  All  these  points  being  thus  satisfactorily  ar 
ranged,  Mr  Hazard  received  a  carte-blanche  for 
the  purchase  of  the  lands  which  were  to  be  flowed, 
which  he  had  ascertained  might  be  had  for  a  mere 
trifle. 

The  principal  care  now  was  to  find  a  name — a 
title  at  once  simple  and  dignified — striking  and  eu 
phonious — recherche  and  yet  unpretending.  Mr 
Hazard  was  for  naming  it  after  the  proprietor.  It 


FOLLOW?  19 

was  a  proper  opportunity,  he  thought,  of  immortal 
izing  one's  self.  But  he  failed  in  convincing  the 
proprietor,  who  relished  not  this  form  of  fame,  and 
who  referred  the  matter  entirely  to  me.  Here  was 
a  responsibility  !  I  begged  for  time,  but  the  matter 
must  be  decided  at  once.  The  village  plot  was  to 
be  drawn  instanter  ;  lithographed  and  circulated 
through  the  United  States,  and.  to  cap  the  climax, 
printed  in  gold,  splendidly  framed,  and  hung  up  in 
Detroit,  in  the  place  '  where  merchants  most  do  con 
gregate.' 

1  tried  for  an  aboriginal  designation,  as  most  cha 
racteristic  and  unworn.  I  recollected  a  young  lady 
speaking  with  enthusiastic  admiration  of  our  Indian 
names,  and  quoting  Ypsilanti  as  a  specimen.  But 
I  was  not  fortunate  in  my  choice  ;  for  to  each  of  the 
few  which  I  could  recollect,  Mr  Mazard  found  some 
insuperable  objection.  One  was  too  long,  another 
signified  Slippery-Eel,  another  Big-Bubble  ;  and 
these  would  be  so  inappropriate  !  I  began  to  be  very 
tired.  1  tried  romantic  names  ;  but  these  again  did 
not  suit  any  of  us.  At  length  I  decided  by  lot,  wri 
ting  ten  of  the  most  sounding  names  I  could  mus 
ter  from  my  novel-reading  stores  on  slips  of  paper, 
which  were  mingled  in  a  shako,  and  out  came 
MONT  ACUTE.  How  many  matters  of  greater  im 
portance  are  thus  decided. 


20  A      N  E  W     H  O  KT  ETr 


CHAPTER  IV. 


As  I  am  recording  the  sacred   events  of  History,  I'll  not  bate  one  naif* 
breadth  of  the  honest  truth.  IRVING — KNICK.ERBOCKEB. 

Hope,  thon  bold  taster  of  delight, 

Whor  while  thou  shoahPst  but  taste,  derour'st  it  quite. 

COWLE?V 


MUCH  was  yet  to  be  done  this  morning-,  and  I 
was  too  much  fatigued  to  wander  about  the  hills 
any  longer  ;  so  I  sought  shelter  in  a  log-house  at 
no  great  distance,  to  await  the  conclusion  of  the  sur 
vey.  I  was  received  with  a  civil  nod  by  the  tall 
mistress  of  the  mansion,  and  with  a  curiously  grave 
and  somewhat  sweeping  curtsey  by  her  auburn- 
tressed  daughter,  whose  hair  was  in  curl-papers,  and 
her  hands  covered  with  dough.  The  room  was  oc 
cupied  at  one  end  by  two  large  beds  not  partitioned 
off  '  private  like,'  but  curtained  in  with  cotton  sheets 
pinned  to  the  unhewn  rafters.  Between  them  stood 
a  chest,  and  over  the  chest  hung  the  Sunday  ward 
robe  of  the  family  ;  the  go-to-meeting  hats  and  bon 
nets,  frocks  and  pantaloons  of  a  goodly  number  of 
all  sizes. 

The  great  open  hearth  was  at  the  opposite  end 
of  the  house,  flanked  on  one  side  by  an  open  cup 
board,  and  on  the  other  by  a  stick  ladder. 

Large  broadside  sheets,  caravan  show-bills,  were 
pasted  on  the  logs  in  different  places,  garnished  with 


WHO'LL   FOLLOW.  ti 

mammoth  elephants  and  hippopotamuses, over  which 
'predominated'  Mr  Van  Amburgh  with  his  head 
in  the  lion's  mouth.  A  strip  of  dingy  listing  was 
nailed  in  such  a  way  as  to  afford  support  for  a  few 
iron  spoons,  a  small  comb,  and  sundry  other  articles 
grouped  with  the  like  good  taste  ;  but  I  must  return 
to  my  fair  hostesses. 

They  seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of  concluding 
their  morning  duties.  The  hearth  was  newly  swept, 
a  tin  reflector  was  before  the  fire,  apparently  full  of 
bread,  or  something  equally  important.  The  young 
lady  was  placing  some  cups  and  plates  in  a  pyra 
midal  pile  on  the  cupboard  shelf,  when  the  mother, 
after  taking  my  bonnet  with  grave  courtesy,  said 
something,  of  which  I  could  only  distinguish  the 
words  '  slick  up.' 

She  soon  after  disappeared  behind  one  of  the 
white  screens  I  have  mentioned,  and  in  an  incredi 
bly  short  time  emerged  in  a  different  dress.  Then 
taking  down  the  comb  I  have  hinted  at,  as  exalted 
to  a  juxtaposition  with  the  spoons,  she  seated  her 
self  opposite  to  me,  unbound  her  very  abundant 
brown  tresses,  and  proceeded  to  comb  them  with 
great  deliberateness  ;  occasionally  speering  a  ques 
tion  at  me,  or  bidding  Miss  Irene  (pronounced  Ire- 
nee)  '  mind  the  bread.'  When  she  had  finished, 
Miss  Irene  took  the  comb  and  went  through  the 
same  exercise,  and  both  scattered  the  loose  hairs  on 
the  floor  with  a  coolness  that  made  me  shudder 
when  I  thought  of  my  dinner,  which  had  become, 
by  means  of  the  morning's  ramble,  a  subject  of  pe 
culiar  interest.  A  little  iron  <  wash-dish,'  such  as  I 
had  seen  in  the  morning,  was  now  produced  ;  the 
young  lady  vanished — re-appeared  in  a  scarlet  cir- 
3* 


A     N  E  W     H  O  U  Ef  j 

cassian  dress,  and  more  conibs  in  her  hair  tfiaft 
would  dress  a  belle  for  the  court  of  St  James  ;  and 
forthwith  both  mother  and  daughter  proceeded  ta 
set  the  table  for  dinner. 

The  hot  bread  was  cut  into  huge  slices,  several 
bowls  of  milk  were  disposed  about  the  board,  a  pint 
bowl  of  yellow  pickles,  another  of  apple  sauce,  and 
a  third  containing  mashed  potatoes,  took  their  ap 
propriate  stations,  and  a  dish  of  cold  fried  pork  was 
brought  out  from  some  recess,  heated  and  re-dished, 
when  Miss  Irene  proceeded  to  blow  the  horn. 

The  sound  seemed  almost  as  magical  in  its  ef 
fects  as  the  whistle  of  Roderick  Dhu  ;  for,  solitary 
as  the  whole  neighborhood  had  appeared  to  me  in 
the  morning^  not  many  moments  elapsed  before  in 
came  men  and  boys  enough  to  fill  the  table  com 
pletely.  I  had  made  sundry  resolutions  not  to 
touch  a  mouthful  ;  but  I  confess  I  felt  somewhat 
mortified  when  I  found  there  was  no  opportunity  to 
refuse. 

After  the  '  wash-dish'  had  been  used  in  turn,  and 
various  handkerchiefs  had  performed,  not  for  that 
occasion  only,  the  part  of  towels,  the  lords  of  crea 
tion  seated  themselves  at  the  table,  and  fairly  de 
molished  in  grave  silence  every  eatable  thing  on  it. 
Then,  as  each  one  finished,  he  arose  and  walked 
off,  till  no  one  remained  of  all  this  goodly  company 
but  the  red-faced,  heavy-eyed  master  of  the  house. 
This  personage  used  his  privilege  by  asking  me  five 
hundred  questions,  as  to  my  birth,  parentage,  and 
education  ;  my  opinion  of  Michigan,  my  husband's 
plans  and  prospects,  business  and  resources  ;  and 
then  said,  '  he  guessed  he  must  be  off.' 

Meanwhile  his  lady  and  daughter  had  been  clear 
ing  the  table,  and  were  now  preparing  to  wash  the 


W  H  O  '  L  L     tf  O  L  L  O  W  ?  23 

dishes  in  an  iron  pot  of  very  equivocal-looking  soap 
suds,  which  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  chimney  place, 
rinsing  each  piece  in  a  pan  of  clean  water,  and  then 
getting  it  to  '  dreen  '  on  a  chair.  I  watched  the  pro 
cess  with  no  increasing  admiration  of  Michigan 
economics  ;  thought  wofully  of  dinner  ;  and  found 
that  Mrs  Danforth's  breakfast  table,  which  had  ap 
peared  in  the  morning  frugal  and  homely  enough^ 
was  tilling  my  mind's  eye  as  the  very  acme  of  com 
fort.  Every  thing  is  relative. 

But  now,  prospects  began  to  brighten  j  the  tea 
kettle  was  put  on  ;  the  table  was  spread  again  with 
the  tea-equipage  and  a  goodly  pile  of  still  warm 
bread,  redolent  of  milk-yeast  ;  the  un foiling  bowls 
of  apple  sauce  and  pickles,  a  plate  of  small  cakes, 
and  a  saucer  of  something  green  cut  up  in  vinegar. 
I  found  we  had  only  been  waiting  for  a  more  lady 
like  meal,  and  having  learned  wisdom  by  former 
disappointment,  I  looked  forward  with  no  small  sat 
isfaction  to  something  like  refreshment. 

The  tea  was  made  and  the  first  cup  poured,  when 
in  came  my  husband  and  Mr  Mazard.  What  was 
my  dismay  when  I  heard  that  I  must  mount  and 
away  on  the  instant  !  The  buggy  at  the  door — the 
sun  setting,  and  the  log-causeway,  and  the  black 
slough  yet  to  be  encountered.  I  could  not  obtain  a 
moment's  respite,  and  I  will  not  pretend  to  describe 
my  vexation,  when  I  saw,  on  looking  back,  our  pro 
jector  already  seated  at  my  predestined  cup  of  tea, 
and  busily  engaged  with  my  slice  of  bread  and 
butter  ! 

I  walked  over  the  logs  in  no  very  pleasant  mood, 
and  when  we  reached  the  slough  it  looked  blacker 
than  ever.  I  could  not  possibly  screw  up  my  faint 
ing  courage  to  pass  it  in  the  carriagej  and  after  some 


24  ANEWHOMEj 

difficulty,  a  slender  pole  was  found,  by  means  of 
which  I  managed  to  get  across,  thinking  all  the 
while  of  the  bridge  by  which  good  Musselmans 
skate  into  paradise,  and  wishing  for  no  houri  but 
good  Mrs  Danforth. 

We  reached  the  inn  after  a  ride  which  would 
have  been  delicious  under  other  circumstances. 
The  softest  and  stillest  of  spring  atmospheres,  the 
crimson  rays  yet  prevailing,  and  giving  an  opal 
changefulness  of  hue  to  the  half-opened  leaves  ; 

'  The  grass  beneath  them  dimly  green ;' 

could  scarcely  pass  quite  unfelt  by  one  whose  de 
light  is  in  their  beauty  ;  but,  alas,  who  can  be  sen 
timental  and  hungry  ! 

I  alighted  with  gloomy  forebodings.  The  house 
was  dark — could  it  be  that  the  family  had  already 
stowed  themselves  away  in  their  crowded  nests  ? 
The  fire  was  buried  in  ashes,  the  tea-kettle  was  cold 
— I  sat  down  in  the  corner  and  cried  ***** 

I  was  awakened  from  a  sort  of  doleful  trance  by 
the  voice  of  our  cheery  hostess. 

( Why,  do  tell  if  you've  had  no  supper  !  Well,  I 
want  to  know  !  1  went  off  to  meetin'  over  to  Joe 
Banner's  and  never  left  nothing  ready.' 

But  in  a  space  of  time  which  did  not  seem  long 
even  to  me,  my  cup  of  tea  was  on  the  table,  and 
the  plate  of  snow-white  rolls  had  no  reason  to  com 
plain  of  our  neglect  or  indifference. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  25 


CHAPTER  V. 


Such  soon-speeding  geer 
As  will  dispense  itself  through  all  the  veins. 

SHAKSFEARZ. 

By   her  help  I  also  now 
Make  this  churlish  place  allow 
Some  things  that  may  sweeten  gladness 
Jn  the  very  heart  of  sadness. 

WITHERS. 


THE  next  day  I  was  to  spend  in  the  society  of 
my  hostess  ;  and  I  felt  in  no  haste  to  quit  my  eyrie, 
although  it  was  terribly  close,  but  waited  a  call  from 
one  of  the  little  maidens  before  I  attempted  my  twi 
light  toilet.  When  I  descended  the  ladder,  nobody 
was  visible  but  the  womankind. 

After  breakfast  Mrs  Danforth  mentioned  that  she 
was  going  about  a  mile  into  the  woods  to  visit  a 
neighbor  whose  son  had  been  bitten  by  a  massisan- 
ga,  (I  spell  the  word  by  ear),  and  was  not  expected 
to  live. 

1  inquired  of  course — '  Why,  law  !  it's  a  rattle 
snake  ;  the  Indians  call  them  massisangas,  and  so 
folks  calls  'em  so  too.' 

(  Are  they  often  seen  here  ? ' 

'  Why,  no,  not  very  ;  as  far  from  the  mash  as 
this.  I  han't  seen  but  two  this  spring,  and  them 
was  here  in  the  garden,  and  I  killed  'em  both,' 

(  You  killed  them  ! ' 


26  A     NEW     HOME, 

1  Why,  law,  yes  ! — Betsey  come  in  one  night  af 
ter  tea  and  told  me  on  'em,  and  we  went  out,  and 
she  held  the  candle  while  I  killed  them.  But  I  tell 
you  we  had  a  real  chase  after  them  ! ' 

My  desire  for  a  long  walk  through  the  woods  was 
somewhat  cooled  by  this  conversation  ;  nevertheless 
upon  the  good  dame's  reiterated  assurance  that  there 
was  no  danger,  and  that  she  would  '  as  lief  meet 
forty  on  'em  as  not,'  I  consented  to  accompany  her, 
and  our  path  through  the  dim  forest  was  as  enchant 
ing  as  one  of  poor  Shelley's  gemmed  and  leafy 
dreams.  The  distance  seemed  nothing  and  I 
scarcely  remembered  the  rattlesnakes. 

We  found  the  poor  boy  in  not  quite  so  sad  a  case 
as  had  been  expected.  A  physician  had  arrived 

from ,  about  fourteen  miles  off,  and  had 

brought  with  him  a  quantity  of  spirits  of  hartshorn, 
with  which  the  poisoned  limb  had  now  been  con 
stantly  bathed  for  some  hours,  while  frequent  small 
doses  of  the  same  specific  had  been  administered. 
This  course  had  produced  a  change,  and  the  pale 
and  weary  mother  had  begun  to  hope. 

This  boy  had  been  fishing  in  the  stream  which 
was  to  make  the  fortune  of  Montacute,  and  in 
kneeling  to  search  for  bait  had  roused  the  snake, 
which  bit  him  just  above  the  knee.  The  entire 
limb  was  frightfully  swollen  and  covered  with  large 
livid  spots  '  exactly  like  the  snake,'  as  the  woman 
stated  with  an  air  of  mysterious  meaning. 

When  I  saw  the  body  of  the  snake,  which  the 
father  had  found  without  difficulty,  and  killed  very 
near  the  scene  of  the  accident,  so  slow  are  these 
creatures  generally — I  found  it  difficult  to  trace  the 
resemblance  between  its  brilliant  colors  and  the  pur 
plish  brown  blotches  on  the  poor  boy's  leg.  But 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  27 

the  superstition  once  received,  imagination  supplies 
all  deficiencies.  A  firm  belief  in  some  inscrutable 
connexion  between  the  spots  on  the  snake  and  the 
spots  on  the  wounded  person  is  universal  in  this  re 
gion,  as  I  have  since  frequently  heard. 

During  our  walk  homeward,  sauntering  as  we 
did  to  prolong  the  enjoyment,  my  hostess  gave  me  a 
little  sketch  of  her  own  early  history,  and  she  had 
interested  me  so  strongly  by  her  unaffected  kindli 
ness,  and  withal  a  certain  dash  of  espieglerie,  that  I 
listened  to  the  homely  recital  with  a  good  deal  of 
pleasure. 

'  I  was  always  pretty  lucky,'  she  began — and  as  I 
looked  at  her  benevolent  countenance  with  its  broad 
expansive  brow  and  gentle  eyes,  1  thought  such 
people  are  apt  to  be  l  lucky'  even  in  this  world  of 
disappointments. 

'  My  mother  didn't  live  to  bring  me  up,'  she  con 
tinued,  '  but  a  man  by  the  name  of  Spangler,  that 
had  no  children,  took  me  and  did  for  me  as  if  I  had 
been  his  own  ;  sent  me  to  school  and  all.  His  wife 
was  a  real  mother  to  me.  She  was  a  weakly  wo 
man,  hardly  ever  able  to  sit  up  all  day.  I  don't 
believe  she  ever  spun  a  hank  of  yarn  in  her  life ; 
but  she  was  a  proper  nice  woman,  and  Spangler 
loved  her  just  as  well  as  if  she  had  been  ever  so 
smart.' 

Mrs  Danforth  seemed  to  dwell  on  this  point  in 
her  friend's  character  with  peculiar  respect, — that 
he  should  love  a  wife  who  could  not  do  her  own 
work.  I  could  not  help  telling  her  she  reminded 
me  of  a  man  weeping  for  the  loss  of  his  partner — 
his  neighbors  trying  to  comfort  him,  by  urging  the 
usual  topics  ;  he  cut  them  short,  looking  up  at  the 


28  A     NEW     HOME; 

same  time  with  an  inconsolable  air — '  Ah  !  but  she 
was  such  a  dreadful  good  creature  to  work  !' 

Mrs  Dan  forth  said  gravely,  '  Well,  I  suppose  the 
poor  feller  had  a  family  of  children  to  do  for;'  and 
after  a  reflective  pause  continued — '  Well,  Miss 
Spangler  had  a  little  one  after  all,  when  I  was  quite 
a  big  girl,  and  you  never  see  folks  so  pleased  as 
they  !  Mr  Spangler  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  find 
folks  enough  to  be  good  to,  that  winter.  He  had 
the  prayers  of  the  poor,  I  tell  ye.  There  wasn't  a 
baby  born  anywheres  in  our  neighborhood,  that 
whole  blessed  winter,  but  what  he  found  out  wheth 
er  the  mother  had  what  would  make  her  comfort 
able,  and  sent  whatever  was  wanted. 

*  He  little  thought  that  baby  that  he  thought  so 
much  on  was  going  to  cost  him  so  dear.  His  wife 
was  never  well  again  !  She  only  lived  through  the 
summer  and  died  when  the  frost  came,  just  like  the 
flowers ;  and  he  never  held  up  his  head  afterwards. 
He  had  been  a  professor  for  a  good  many  years,  but 
he  didn't  seem  then  to  have  neither  faith  nor  hope. 
He  wouldn't  hear  reason  from  nobody.  I  always 
thought  that  was  the  reason  the  baby  died.  It  only 
lived  about  a  year.  Well,  I  had  the  baby  to  bring 
up  by  hand,  and  so  I  was  living  there  yet  when  Mr. 
Spangler  took  sick.  He  seemed  always  like  a 
broken-hearted  man,  but  still  he  took  comfort  with 
the  baby,  and  by  and  by  the  little  dear  took  the 
croup  and  died  all  in  a  minute  like.  It  began  to  be 
bad  after  tea  and  it  was  dead  before  sunrise.  Then 
I  saw  plain  enough  nothing  could  be  done  for  the 
father.  He  wasted  away  just  like  an  April  snow. 
I  took  as  good  care  on  him  as  I  could,  and  when  it 
came  towards  the  last,  he  wouldn't  have  any  body 
else  give  him  even  so  much  as  a  cup  of  tea.  He 


F  0  L  L  O  W 

settled  up  his  business  and  gave  receipts  to  many 
.poor  folks  that  owed  him  small  debts,  besides  giving 
away  a  great  many  things,  and  paying  all  those 
'that  had  helped  take  care  of  him,  I  think  he  knew 
what  kind  of  a  feller  his  nephew  was,  that  was  to 
have  all  when  he  was  gone. 

-  Weil,  all  this  is  neither  here  nor  there.  George 
Danforth  and  I  had  been  keeping  company  then  a 
.good  while,  and  Mr  Spangler  knew  we'd  been  only 
waiting  till  I  could  be  spared,  so  he  sent  for  George 
one  day  and  told  him  that  he  had  long  intended  to 
give  me  a  small  house  and  lot  jist  back  of  where  he 
lived,  but  seem'  things  stood  jist  as  they  did,  he  ad 
vised  George  to  buy  a  farm  of  his  that  was  for  sale 
on  the  edge  of  the  village,,  and  he  would  credit  him 
for  as  much  as  the  house  and  lot  would  have  been 
worth,  and  he  could  pay  the  rest  by  his  labor  in  the 
course  of  two  or  three  years.  Sure  enough,  he  gave 
him  a  deed  and  took  a  mortgage,  and  it  was  so 
worded,  that  he  could  not  be  hurried  to  pay,  and 
every  body  said  it  was  the  greatest  bargain  that  ever 
was.  And  Mr  Spangler  gave  me  a  nice  settin  out 

besides. But  if  there  isn't  the  boys  comin  in  to 

dinner,  and  I  bet  there's  nothin  ready  for  'em  !'  So 
saying,  the  good  woman  quickened  her  pace,  and 
for  the  next  hour  her  whole  attention  was  absorbed 
by  the  '  savory  cates,'  fried  .pork  and  parsnips. 


30  A      NEW     HOME; 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  trickling  stream  from  hrgh  rock  tumbling  down, 
Ami  ever  drizzling  rain  upon  the  loft, 
Mixt  with  a  murmuring  wind,- much  like  the  pound 
Of  swarming  bee*. 

SPENCER. — HOUSE  or  SLEEP- 

Wliile  pensive  memery  traces  back  the  round 

Which  fills  live  varied  interval  between  ; 

Much  pleasure,  more  of  sorrow,  marks  the  scene. 

WARTON. 


WHEN  we  were  quietly  seated  after  dinner,  I  re 
quested  some  further  insight  into  Mrs.  Danforth's 
early  history,  the  prosy  flow  of  which  was  just  in 
keeping  with  the  long  dreamy  course  of  the  after 
noon,  unbroken  as  it  was  by  any  sound  more  awak 
ening  than  the  ceaseless  click  of  knitting-needles,  or 
an  occasional  yawn  from  the  town  lady,  who  found 
the  farniente  rather  burdensome. 

She  smiled  complacently  and  took  up  the  broken 
thread  at  the  right  place,  evidently  quite  pleased  to 
find  she  had  excited  so  much  interest. 

*  When  Mr.  Spangler's  nephew  came  after  he  was 
dead  and  gone,  he  was  very  close  in  asking  all  about 
the  business,  and  seein'  after  the  mortgages  and  such 
like.  Now,  George  had  never  got  his  deed  record 
ed.  He  felt  as  if  it  wasn't  worth  while  to  lose  a 
day's  work,  as  he  could  send  it  any  time  by  one  of 
his  neighbors.  But  when  wre  found  what  sort  of  a 
man  Mr.  Wilkins  was,  we  tho't  it  was  high  time  to- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  31 

set  about  it.  He  had  talked  a  good  deal  about  the 
place,  and  said  the  old  man  must  have  been  crazy 
to  let  us  have  it  so  cheap,  and  once  went  so  far  as  to 
offer  my  husband  a  hundred  dollars  for  his  bargain. 
So  John  Green,  a  good  neighbor  of  ours,  sent  us 
word  one  morning  that  he  was  going,  and  would 
call  and  get  the  deed,  as  he  knew  we  wanted  to 
send  it  up,  and  1  got  it  out  and  laid  it  ready  on  the 
stand  and  put  the  big  Bible  on  it  to  keep  it  safe. 
But  he  did  not  come,  something  happened  that  he 
could  not  go  that  day:  and  I  had  jist  took  up  the 
deed  to  put  it  back  in  the  chest,  when  in  came  Wil- 
kins.  He  had  an  eye  like  a  hawk  ;  and  1  was  afraid 
he  would  see  that  it  was  a  deed,  and  ask  to  look  at 
it,  and  then  I  couldn't  refuse  to  hand  it  to  him,  you 
know,  so  I  jist  slipped  it  back  under  the  Bible  before 
I  turned  to  ask  him  what  was  his  will. 

1  i  Did  n't  John  Saunderson  leave  my  bridle  here?' 
says  he.  So  I  stepped  into  the  other  room  and  got 
it,  and  he  took  it  and  walked  off  without  speaking  a 
word ;  and  when  I  went  to  put  away  the  deed,  it 
was  gone  ! 

'  My  husband  came  in  while  I  sat  crying  fit  to 
break  my  heart ;  but  all  I  could  do  I  could  not  make 
him  believe  that  Wilkins  had  got  it.  He  said  I  had 
put  it  somewhere  else  without  thinking,  that  people 
often  felt  just  as  sure  as  I  did,  and  found  themselves 
mistaken  after  all.  But  I  knew  better,  and  though 
I  hunted  high  and  low  to  please  him,  I  knew  well 
enough  where  it  was.  When  he  found  we  must 
give  it  up  he  never  gave  me  a  word  of  blame,  but 
charged  me  not  to  say  anything  about  the  loss,  for, 
wherever  the  deed  was,  Wilkins  was  just  the  man 
to  take  advantage  if  he  knew  we  had  lost  it. 

1  Well,  things  went  on  in  this  way  for  a  while, 


32  A     N  E  W     H  O  M  E  r 

and  I  had  many  a  good  cryin'  spell.  I  tell  ye  !  and 
one  evening  when  George  was  away,  in  comes  Wil- 
kins,  I  was  sittin' alone  at  my  knittin',  heavy  heart 
ed  enough,  and  the  schoolmaster  was  in  the  little 
room  ;  for  that  was  his  week  to  board  with  us. 

' '  Js  your  man  at  home  ?'  says  he  ;  I  said — No  * 
but  I  expect  him  soon,  so  he  sat  down  and  began 
the  old  story  about  the  place,  and  at  last  he  says, 

' '  I  'd  like  to  look  at  that  deed  if  you  've  no  ob 
jection,  Mrs.  Danforth.'  I  was  so  mad,  I  forgot 
what  George  had  told  me,  and  spoke  right  out. 

'  I  should  think,  says  lr  you'd  had  it  long  enough 
to  kno\v  it  all  by  heart.' 

* '  What  does  the  woman  mean?'  says  he. 

c  You  know  well  enough  what  I  mean,  says  I,. 
you  know  you  took  it  from  off  this  table,  and  from 
under  this  blessed  book,  the  very  last  time  you  was 
in  this  house. 

*  If  I  had  not  known  it  before,  I  should  have  brcn 
certain  then,  for  his  face  was  as  white  as  the  wall, 
and  he  trembled  when  he  spoke  in  spite  of  his  im 
pudence.  But  I  could  have  bit  off  my  own  tongue 
when  I  tho't  how  imprudent  I  had  been,  and  what 
my  husband  would  say.  He  talked  very  angry  as 
you  may  think. 

1 '  Only  say  that  where  anybody  else  can  hear 
you,'  says  he,  '  and  I'll  make  it  cost  your  husband 
all  he  is  worth  in  the  world.' 

'He  spoke  so  loud  that  Mr.  Peeler,  the  master, 
came  out  of  the  room  to  see  what  was  the  matter, 
and  Wilkins  bullied  away  and  told  Peeler  what  I 
had  said,  and  dared  me  to  say  it  over  again.  The 
master  looked  as  if  he  knew  something  about  it  but 
did  not  speak.  Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  in 
came  George  Danforth ,.  led  between  two  men}  as 


W  H  O  5  L  L     FOLLOW?  33 

pale  as  death,  and  dripping  wet  from  head  to  foot 
You  may  think  how  I  felt !  Well,  they  wouldn't 
give  no  answer  about  what  was  the  matter  till  they 
got  George  into  bed — only  one  of  'em  said  he  had 
been  in  the  canal.  '  Wilkins  pretended  to  be  too 
angry  to  notice  my  husband,  but  kept  talking  away 
to  himself — and  was  jist  a  beginning  at  me  again, 
when  one  of  the  men  said,  c  Squire,  I  guess  Henry'll 
want  some  looking  after ;  for  Mr  Dan  forth  has  just 
got  him  out  of  the  water.' 

'  If  I  live  to  be  a  hundred  years  old  1  shall  never 
forget  how  Wilkins  looked.  There  was  every 
thing  in  his  face  at  once.  He  seemed  as  if  he 
would  pitch  head-foremost  out  of  the  door  when  he 
started  to  go  home — for  Henry  was  his  only  child. 

'  When  he  was  gone,  and  my  husband  had  got 
warm  and  recovered  himself  a  little,  he  told  us,  that 
he  had  seen  Henry  fall  into  the  lock,  and  soused 
right  in  after  him,  and  they  had  come  very  near 
drowning  together,  and  so  stayed  in  so  long  that 
they  were  about  senseless  when  they  got  into  the  air 
again.  Then  I  told  him  all  that  had  happened— 
and  then.  Peeler,  he  up,  and  told  that  he  saw  Wil 
kins  take  a  paper  off  the  stand  the  time  I  opened 
the  bed-room  door  to  get  the  bridle,  for  he  was  at 
our  house  then. 

'  I  was  very  glad  to  hear  it  to  be  sure  ;  but  the 
very  next  morning  came  a  new  deed  and  the  mort 
gage  with  a  few  lines  from  Mr.  Wilkins,  saying 
how  thankful  he  was,  and  that  he  hoped  George 
would  oblige  him  by  accepting  some  compensation. 
George  sent  back  the  mortgage,  saying  he  would 
rather  not  take  it,  but  thanked  him  kindly  for  the 
deed.  So  then  I  was  glad  Peeler  hadn't  spoke, 
4* 


34  A     N  £  W    ti  O  M  E  , 

'cause  it  would  have  set  Wilkins  against  him.  Af 
ter  that  we  thought  it  was  best  to  sell  out  and  eome 
away,  for  such  feelings,  you  know,  a'n't  pleasant 
among  neighbors,  and  we  had  talked  some  of  com 
ing  to  Michigan  afore. 

'  We  had  most  awful  hard  times  at  first.  Many's 
the  day  I've  worked  from  sunrise  till  dark  in  the 
fields  gathering  brush  heaps  and  burning  stumps. 
But  that's  all  over  now ;  and  we've  got  four  times 
as  much  land  as  we  ever  should  have  owned  in 
York  state.' 

I  have  since  had  occasion  to  observe  that  this 
forms  a  prominent  and  frequent  theme  of  self-gratu- 
lation  among  the  settlers  in  Michigan.  The  posses 
sion  of  a  large  number  of  acres  is  esteemed  a  great 
good,  though  it  makes  but  little  difference  in  the 
owner's  mode  of  living.  Comforts  do  not  seem  to 
abound  in  proportion  to  landed  increase,  but  often 
on  the  contrary  are  really  diminished  for  the  sake 
of  it ;  and  the  habit  of  selling  out  so  frequently,, 
makes  that  //orae-feeling,  which  is  so  large  an  in 
gredient  in  happiness  elsewhere,  almost  a  nonentity 
in  Michigan.  The  man  who  holds  himself  ready 
to  accept  the  first  advantageous  offer,  will  not  be 
very  solicitous  to  provide  those  minor  accommoda 
tions,  which,  though  essential  to  domestic  comfort, 
iwill  not  add  to  the  moneyed  value  of  his  farm, 
|  which  he  considers  merely  an  article  of  trade,  and 
'.which  he  knows  his  successor  will  look  upon  in  the 
'.same  light.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  our 
neighbors  forget  that  '  the  days  of  man's  life  are 
khree  score  years  and  ten,'  since  they  spend  all  their 
lives  in  getting  ready  to  begin. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  35 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Offer  me  no  money,  I  pray  you  ;  that  kills  my  heart.     *     * 

Will  you  buy  any  tape 

Or  lace  for  your  cape, 
My  dainty  duck,  my  dear-a? 

Any  silk,  any  thread, 

Any  toys  for  your  head, 
Of  the  newest  and  finest  wear-a? 

SHAKSPEARE. — WINTER'S  TALE. 


OUR  return  to  Detroit  was  accomplished  without 
any  serious  accident,  although  we  were  once  over 
turned  in  consequence  of  my  enthusiastic  admiration 
of  a  tuft  of  splendid  flowers  in  a  marsh  which  we 
were  crossing  by  the  usual  bridge  of  poles,  or  cor 
duroy  as  it  is  here  termed. 

While  our  eyes  were  fixed  upon  it,  and  I  was 
secretly  determined  not  to  go  on  without  it,  our 
sober  steed,  seeing  a  small  stream  at  a  little  distance 
on  one  side,  quietly  walked  towards  it,  and  our  at 
tention  was  withdrawn  from  the  contemplation  of 
the  object  of  my  wishes  by  finding  ourselves  spilt 
into  the  marsh,  and  the  buggy  reposing  on  its  side, 
while  the  innocent  cause  of  the  mischief  was  fairly 
planted,  fetlock  deep,  in  the  tenacious  black  mud  :  I 
say  the  innocent  cause,  for  who  ever  expected  any 
proofs  of  education  from  a  livery-stable  beast  ? — and 
such  was  our  brown  friend. 

'Twere  vain  to  tell  how  I  sat  on  the  high  bog, 


36  A     NEW     HOME, 

(the  large  tufted  masses  in  a  marsh  are  so  called  irt 
Michigan,)  which  had  fortunately  received  me  in 
falling,  and  laughed  till  I  cried  to  see  my  compan 
ion  hunting  for  his  spectacles,  and  D'Orsay  (whom 
I  ought  sooner  to  have  introduced  to  my  reader) 
looking  on  with  a  face  of  most  evident  wonder. 
D'Orsay,  my  beautiful  greyhound,  was  our  com- 
pagnon  de  voyage,  and  had  caused  us  much  an 
noyance  by  his  erratic  propensities,  so  we  were  oblig 
ed  to  tie  him  in  the  back  part  of  the  buggy,  and 
then  watch  very  closely  that  he  did  not  free  himself 
of  his  bonds. 

Just  at  this  moment  a  pedestrian  traveller,  a  hard- 
featured,  yellow-haired  son  of  New-England,  carne 
up,  with  a  tin  trunk  in  his  hand,  and  a  small  pack 
or  knapsack  strapped  on  his  shoulders. 

'  Well !  I  swan  !'  said  he  with  a  grim  smile,  '  I 
never  see  any  thing  slicker  than  that !  Why,  you 
went  over  jist  as  easy  !  You  was  goin'  to  try  if 
the  mash  wouldn't  be  softer  ridin',  I  s'pose.' 

Mr  Clavers  disclaimed  any  intention  of  quitting 
the  causeway,  and  pointed  to  my  unfortuntae  pyra 
mid  of  pale  pink  blossoms  as  the  cause  of  our  dis 
aster. 

'What!  them  posies?  Why,  now,  to  my  think 
ing,  a  good  big  double  marygold  is  as  far  before 
them  pink  lilies  as  can  be :  but  I'll  see  if  I  can't  get 
'em  for  you  if  you  want  'em.' 

By  this  time,  the  carriage  was  again  in  travelling 
trim,  and  D'Orsay  tolerably  resigned  to  his  impris 
oned  state.  The  flowers  were  procured,  and  most 
delicately  beautiful  and  fragrant  they  were. 

Mr  Clavers  offered  guerdon. — remuneration, — but 
our  oriental  friend  seemed  shy  of  accepting  any  thing 
of  the  sort, 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  37 

c  If  you've  a  mind  to  trade,  I've  got  a  lot  o'  no 
tions  I'd  like  to  sell  you,'  said  he. 

So  my  travelling  basket  was  crammed  with  es 
sences,  pins,  brass  thimbles,  and  balls  of  cotton  ; 
while  Mr  Olavers  possessed  himself  of  a  valuable 
outfit  of  pocket  combs,  suspenders  and  cotton  hand 
kerchiefs — an  assortment  which  made  us  very  pop 
ular  on  that  road  for  some  time  after. 

We  reached  the  city  in  due  time,  and  found  our 
hotel  crowded  to  suffocation.  The  western  fever 
was  then  at  its  height,  and  each  day  brought  its 
thousands  to  Detroit.  Every  tavern  of  every  calibre 
was  as  well  filled  as  ours,  and  happy  he  who  could 
find  a  bed  any  where.  Fifty  cents  was  the  price  of 
six  feet  by  two  of  the  bar-room  floor,  and  these 
choice  lodgings  were  sometimes  disposed  of  by  the  first 
served  at  'thirty  per  cent,  advance.'  The  country 
inns  were  thronged  in  proportion  ;  and  your  horse's 
hay  cost  you  no  where  less  than  a  dollar  per  diem  ; 
while,  throughout  the  whole  territory  west  of  Detroit, 
the  only  masticable  articles  set  before  the  thousands 
of  hungry  travellers  were  salt  ham  and  bread,  for 
which  you  had  the  satisfaction  of  paying  like  a 
prince, 


38  ANEW     HOME 


CAAPTER  VIII. 


Notre  sagcsse  n'est  paa  moins  i  la  merci  de  la  fortune  que  nos  biens. 

ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

Your  horse's  hoof-tread  sounds  too  rude, 

So  stilly  is  the  »olitude.  SCOTT. 


OUR  breakfast-table  at  -; House  was  sur 
rounded  by  as  motley  a  crew  as  Mirth  ever  owned. 
The  standing  ornament  of  the  upper  end  was  a 
very  large  light  blue  crape  turban,  which  turban 
surmounted  the  prolonged  face  of  a  lady,  somewhere 
(it  is  not  polite  to  be  exact  in  these  matters)  between 
forty  and  fifty,  and  also  partly  concealed  a  pair  of 
ears  from  which  depended  ear-rings  whose  pendants 
rested  not  far  form  the  Apalachian  collar-bones  of 
the  dignified  wearer.  This  lady,  turban  and  ear 
rings,  were  always  in  their  places  before  the  eggs 
came,  and  remained  long  after  the  last  one  had  dis 
appeared — at  least,  I  judge  so;  for  I,  who  always 
take  my  chance  (rash  enough  in  this  case)  for  a 
breakfast,  never  saw  her  seat  vacant.  Indeed,  as  I 
never  met  her  anywhere  else,  I  might  have  suppos 
ed  her  a  fixture,  the  production  of  some  American 
Maelzel,  but  that  the  rolling  of  her  very  light  grey 
eyes  was  quite  different  from  that  of  the  dark  Per 
sian  orbs  of  the  chess-pla}7er  j  while  an  occasional 


W-HO'LL    FOLLOW?  39 

\vord  came  to  my  ear  with  a  sharp  sound,  even 
more  startling  than  the  '  Echec'  of  that  celebrated 
personage. 

Another  very  conspicuous  member  of  our  usual 
party  was  a  lady  in  mourning,  whom  T  afterwards 
discovered  to  be  a  great  beauty.  I  had  indeed  ob 
served  that  she  wore  a  great  many  curls,  and  that 
these  curls  were  carefully  arranged  arid  bound  with 
a  ribbon,  so  as  to  make  the  most  of  a  pair  of  dark 
eyes  ;  that  nothing  that  could  be  called  throat  was 
ever  enviously  shaded,  even  at  breakfast ;  and  that 
a  pair  of  delicately  white  hands,  loaded  with  rings 
of  all  hues,  despite  the  mourning  garments,  were 
never  out  of  sight.  But  I  did  not  learn  that  she 
was  a  beauty  till  I  met  her  long  after  at  a  brilliant 
evening  party  in  rouge  and  blonde,  and  with  diffi 
culty  recognized  my  neighbor  of  the  breakfast-table. 

But  if  I  should  attempt  to  set  down  half  my  re 
collections  of  that  piquant  and  changeful  scene,  I 
should  never  get  on  with  my  story :  so,  begging 
pardon,  I  will  pass  over  the  young  ladies,  who  never 
were  hungry,  and  their  papas,  who  could  never  be 
satisfied,  and  their  brothers,  who  could  not  get  any 
thing  fit  to  eat ;  the  crimson-faced  celibataire,  who 
always  ate  exactly  three  eggs,  and  three  slices  of 
bread  and  butter,  and  drank  three  cups  of  tea,  and 
then  left  the  table,  performing  the  whole  in  perfect 
silence  ;  the  lady,  who  played  good  mamma,  and 
would  ever  have  her  two  babies  at  the  table  with, 
her,  and  feed  them  on  sausage  and  strong  coffee, 
without  a  mouthful  of  bread ;  and  the  shoals  of 
speculators,  fat  and  lean,  rich  and  poor,  young  and 
old,  dashing  and  shabby,  who  always  looked  very 
hungry,  but  could  not  take  time  to  eat.  I  saw 


40  A     NEW     HOME,. 

them  only  at  breakfast,  for  the  rest  of  the  day  we 
usually  spent  elsewhere. 

While  we  were  awaiting  the  arrival  of  our  chattels 
from  the  east,  Mr  Clavers  accepted  an  invitation  to 
accompany  a  party  of  these  breakfast-table  compan^ 
ions  last  mentioned,  men  of  substance  literally  and 
figuratively)  who  were  going  to  make  a  tour  with  a 
view  to  the  purchase  of  one  or  two  cities.  Ponies, 
knapsacks,  brandy-bottles,  pocket-compasses,  blank 
ets,  lucifers,  great  india-rubber  boots,  coat^  of  the 
same,  and  caps  with  immense  umbrella  capes  to 
them :  these  things  are  bat  a  beginning  of  the  outfit 
necessary  for  such  an  expedition.  It  was  intended 
to  'camp  out'  as  often  as  might  be  desirable,  to 
think  nothing  of  fasting  for  a  day  or  so,  and  to  defy 
the  ague  and  all  its  works  by  the  aid  of  the  potent 
exorcisor  contained  in  the  bottles  above  mentioned. 

One  of  the  company,  an  idler  from  — ,  was 

almost  as  keen  in  his  pursuit  of  game  as  of  money, 
and  he  carried  a  double-barrelled  fowling  piece,  with 
all  things  thereunto  appertaining,  in  addition  to  his 
other  equipments,  giving  a  finishing  touch  to  the 
grotesque  cortege.  My  only  parting  charge  to  my 
quota  of  the  expedition  was  to  keep  out  of  the  water, 
and  to  take  care  of  his  spectacles.  I  should  have 
cautioned  him  against  buying  a  city,  but  that  he 
was  never  very  ambitious,  and  already  owned  Mont- 
acute.  He  went  merely  pour  se  disennuyer  ;  and 
I  remained  at  the  very  focus  of  this  strange  excite 
ment  an  unconcerned  spectator,  weary  enough  of 
the  unvarying  theme  which  appeared  to  fill  the 
whole  soul  of  the  community. 

The  party  were  absent  just  four  days  ;  and  a 
more  dismal  sight  than  they  presented  on  their  re 
turn  cannot  well  be  imagined,  Tired  and  dirty, 


WttO^LL     FOLLOW?  41 

'Cross  and  hungry,  were  they  all.  No  word  of  ad 
ventures,  no  boasting  of  achievements,  not  even  a 
breath  of  the  lalismanic  word  *  land,'  more  interest' 
ing  to  the  speculator  of  1835-6  than  it  ever  was  to 
Che  ship-wrecked  mariner.  They  seemed  as  if  they 
would,  Esau-like,  have  sold  their  city  lots  for  a  good 
supper,  though  I  doubt  whether  the  offer  of  a  '  trade,' 
would  not  have  aroused  all  their  energies,  and  so 
prevented  the  bargain. 

After  tea,  however,  things  brightened  a  little  :  I 
speak  for  one  of  the  party  only.  The  bath,  the 
razor,  the  much  needed  change  of  those  '  lendings* 
on  which  so  much  of  the  comfort  of  life  depends, 
produced  their  usual  humanizing  effect  ;  and  by 
questions  skilfully  timed  and  cautiously  worded,  I 
drew  from  my  toil-worn  spouse  a  tolerably  circum 
stantial  account  of  the  journey. 

The  first  day  had  been  entirely  consumed  in 
teaching  Shark  River,  or  rather  its  jun  tion  with 
another  considerable  stream.  Twilight  had  already 
shaded  the  woody  path,  when  the  surveyor,  who 
was  acquainted  with  the  whole  region,  informed 
them  that  they  had  yet  some  miles  of  travel  before 
they  could  hope  to  reach  any  kind  of  shelter.  They 
had  been  for  some  hours  following  an  Indian  trail, 
and  some  of  the  city  gentlemen  recollecting,  as  the 
day  declined,  that  they  were  a  little  rheumatic,  be- 
gan  to  give  vent  to  their  opinion  that  the  evening 
was  going  to  be  particularly  damp.  One  went  so 
far  as  to  hint  that  it  would  have  been  as  well  if  Mr 

(the  sportsman)  had  not  taken  quite  so  long 

to  ascertain  whether  that  white  moving  thing  he 
had  seen  in  the  woods  was  a  deer's  tail  or  not. 

To  this  the  city  Nirnrod  had  replied,,  that  as  to  its 


being  a  deer's  tail,  there  was  no  possibility  of 
tion  ;  that  if  the  other  gentlemen  had  been  a  littler 
more  patient,  they  might  have  had  venison  for  sup 
per  ;  and  (his  little  discussion,  growing  more  and 
more  animated  as  it  proceeded,  at  length  occupied 
the  attention  of  the  whole  party  so  completely,  that 
they  lost  the  trail  and  found  themselves  at  the  end 
of  what  had  seemed  to  them  an  open  path.  There 
was  nothing  for  it,  but  to  turn  the  horses'  heads 
right  about,  and  retrace  the  last  mile  or  more,  while 
the  faint  gleam  of  daylight  was  fast  disappearing. 

The  good  humor  of  the  party  was,  to  say  the 
least,  not  increased  by  this  little  contretemps,  and 
the  following  of  a  trail  by  star-light  is  an  exercise  of 
skill  and  patience  not  likely  to  be  long  agreeable  to 
gentlemen  who  have  been  for  many  years  accustom 
ed  to  pavements  and  gas-lamps.  Not  a  word  was 
said  of  '  camping  out,'  so  manfully  planned  in  the 
morning.  The  loads  of  preparations  for  a  bivouac 
seemed  entirely  forgotten  by  every  body — at  least, 
no  one  thought  proper  to  mention  them  ;  and  after 
some  few  attempts  of  the  younger  members  to  be 
funny,  the  whole  caravan  yielded  to  fate,  and  plod 
ded  on  in  gloomy  and  determined  silence. 

The  glimmer  of  a  distant  light  had  an  electrical 
effect.  The  unlucky  sportsman  was  fortunately  in 
the  van,  and  so  had  an  opportunity  of  covering 
up  his  offences  by  being  the  announcer  of  joyous 
tidings. 

He  sang  out  cheerily,  '  So  shines  a  good  deed  in 
this  naughty  world  !'  and  pricked  on  his  tired  Cana 
dian  into  something  akin  to  a  trot,  while  the  soberer 
part  of  the  cavalcade  followed  as  fast  as  they  couldf 
or  as  they  dared.  Ere  long  they  reached  the  much 
desired  shelter,  and  found  that  their  provident  care 


FOLLOW?  43 

in  regard  to  the  various  items  requisite  for  food  and 
lodging  had  not  been  in  vain. 

The  log  cabin  which  received  the  weary  way 
farers  was  like  many  others  which  have  served  for 
the  first  homes  of  settlers  in  Michigan.  It  was  logs 
and  nothing  else,  the  fire  made  on  the  ground,  or  on 
a  few  loose  stones,  and  a  hole  in  the  roof  for  the 
escape  of  the  smoke.  A  family  of  tolerably  decent 
appearance  inhabited  this  forlorn  dwelling,  a  man 
and  his  wife  and  two  young  children.  They  seem 
ed  little  moved  at  the  arrival  of  so  large  a  company, 
but  rendered  what  assistance  they  could  in  provid 
ing  for  the  ponies  and  preparing  the  meal  from  such 
Materials  as  were  afforded  by  the  well-stored  ham 
pers  of  the  baggage  pony. 

After  the  conclusion  of  the  meal,  the  blankets 
were  spread  on  the  ground,  and  happy  he  who 
could  get  a  bag  for  a  pillow.  But  the  night's  rest 
was  well  earned,  and  Nature  is  no  niggard  pay 
master. 


44  ANEWHOMEy 


CHAPTER  IX. 


N.ight  came  ;  and  in  their  lighted  bower,  full  late 
The  joy  of  converse  had  endured;    when,  hark! 
Abrupt  and  loud,  a  summons  shook  their  gate — 
Upris'n  each  wondering  brow  is  knit  and  arched. 

CAMPBELL- 

If  thou  wert  the  lion,  the  fox  would  beguile  thee :    if  thou  wert  the 
the  fox  would  eat  thee. 

TIMON  OF  ATHENS 


THE  morning  sun  showed  the  river  and  its  ad 
junct  bright  and  beautiful,  though  a  leetle  marshy 
at  the  sides.  The  dead  silence,  the  utter  loneliness, 
the  impenetrable  shade,  which  covered  the  site  of 
the  future  city,  might  well  call  to  mind  the  desola 
tion  which  has  settled  on  Tadmor  and  Palmyra  \ 
the  anticipation  of  future  life  and  splendor  contrast 
ing  no  less  forcibly  with  the  actual  scene  than  would 
the  retrospect  of  departed  grandeur.  The  guide, 
who  had  been  much  employed  in  these  matters, 
showed  in  the  course  of  the  day  six  different  points, 
each  of  which,  the  owners  were  fully  satisfied,  would 
one  day  echo  the  busy  tread  of  thousands,  and  see 
reflected  in  the  now  glassy  wave  the  towers  and 
masts  of  a  great  commercial  town.  If  already  this 


WHO^LL    FOLLOW?  45 

infatuation  seems  incredible,  how  shall  we  make  our 
children  believe  its  reality  ? 

The  day  was  to  be  spent  in  exploring,  and  as  it 
was  desirable  to  see  as  much  as  could  be  seen  of  the 
river,  so  important  to  the  future  fortunes  of  the  com 
pany,  it  was  concluded  to  follow  the  bank  as  closely 
as  the  marshes  would  allow,  and  pass  the  night  at 
the  house  of  a  French  trader  near  the  outlet  of  the 
stream. 

The  spirits  of  the  party  were  not  very  high  dur 
ing  the  ride.  There  was  something  a  little  cooling 
in  the  aspect  of  the  marshes,  and,  although  nobody 
liked  to  say  so,  the  ground  seemed  rather  wet  for 
city  building.  However,  the  trader's  dwelling  look 
ed  very  comfortable  after  the  accommodations  of  the 
preceding  night,  and  a  few  Indian  huts  at  no  great 
distance  gave  some  relief  to  the  extreme  solitariness 
of  the  scene,  which  had  contributed  not  a  little  to 
the  temporary  depression  of  the  party. 

The  Frenchman  was  luckily  at  home,  and  with 
his  Indian  wife  treated  the  travellers  with  much 
civility  :  the  lady,  however,  declining  conversation, 
or  indeed  notice  of  any  sort  unless  when  called  on 
to  perform  the  part  of  interpreter  between  the  gentle 
man  and  some  wretched  looking  Indians  who  were 
hanging  about  the  house.  Several  children  with 
bright,  gazelle-like  eyes,  were  visible  at  intervals, 
but  exhibited  nothing  of  the  staring  curiosity  which 
is  seen  peeping  from  among  the  sun-bleached  locks 
of  the  whiter  broods  of  the  same  class  of  settlers. 

The  Indians  to  whom  I  have  alluded,  had  come 

to  procure  whiskey  of  the  trader,  and  after  they  had 

received  the  baleful  luxury  which  performs  among 

their  fated  race  the  work  of  fire,  famine,  and  pesti- 

5* 


46  ANBW&OME; 

lence,  they  departed  with  rapid  steps.  They  had 
scarcely  quitted  the  house  when  another  was  seen 
approaching  the  door  with  that  long  easy  trot  which 
is  habitual  with  the  savage  when  on  a  journey.  He 
was  well  dressed,  in  his  way  ;  his  hat  boasted  a 
broad  band  of  silver  lace  J  his  tunic,  leggins,  and 
moccasins  were  whole  and  somewhat  ornamented  ; 
his  blanket  glorying  in  a  bright  red  border ;  and  on 
his  shoulders,  slung  by  a  broad  thong,  was  a  pack 
of  furs  of  considerable  value.  He  seemed  an  old 
acquaintance  of  the  family,  and  was  received  with 
some  animation  even  by  the  grave  and  dignified 
mistress  of  the  mansion.  The  trader  examined  and 
counted  the  skins,  spoke  to  the  Indian  in  his.  own 
tongue,  and  invited  him  to  eat,  which  however  he 
declined,  with  a  significant  gesture  towards  the  huts 
before  alluded  to. 

This  evening's  supper  was  made  quite  luxurious 
by  the  preserved  cranberries  and  maple  syrup  fur 
nished  by  the  settlers ;  and  our  friends  retired  to  rest 
in  much  more  comfortable  style  than  on  the  preced 
ing  night. 

The  first  nap  was  in  all  its  sweetness,  when  the 
whole  party  were  aroused  by  a  hideous  yelling, 
which  to  city  ears  could  be  no  less  than  an  Indian 
war-whoop.  Every  one  was  on  foot  in  a  instant ; 
and  the  confusion  which  ensued  in  the  attempt  to 
dress  in  the  dark  was  most  perplexing  and  would 
have  been  amusing  enough  but  for  certain  unpleas 
ant  doubts.  The  noise  continued  to  increase  as  it 
approached  the  house,  and  terror  had  reach  its  acme, 
— every  one  catching  at  something  which  could  be 
used  as  a  weapon  ;  when  a  violent  knocking  at  the 
door  aroused  the  trader,  who  slept  in  an  inner  room 
or  closet,  and  who  had  not  been  disturbed  by  the 


FOLLOW?  47 

bustle  within  doors  or  the  yelling  without.  He 
seemed  much  surprised  at  the  confusion  which 
reigned  among  his  guests — assured  them  it  was 

<  nothing    at    all'    but    the    Indians    coming    for 
more  whiskey ;    and  then  admitting  one  of  them, 
and  coolly  shutting  the  door  in  the  face  of  the  rest, 
spoke  to  the  desperate  looking  savage  very  sharply, 
evidently  reprobating  in  no  gentle  terms  the  uproar 
which  had  disturbed  the  sleepers. 

The  Indian  made  scarce  any  reply,  but  pointed 
with  an  impatient  gesture  to  the  keg,  repeating — 

<  Whiskey  !  whiskey  !'  till  the  trader  refilled  it ;   he 
then  departed  leaving  our  party  once  more  to  repose. 

The  next  morning,  much  was  said  of  the  dis 
turbance  of  the  night.  The  Frenchman  seemed  to 
look  upon  it  as  a  thing  of  course,  and  unblushingly 
vindicated  his  own  agency  in  the  matter.  He  said 
that  they  would  get  whiskey  from  some  one — that 
an  Indian  could  not  live  without  it,  and  that  they 
would  pay  honestly  for  what  they  got,  although 
they  would  steal  any  thing  they  could  lay  their 
hands  on,  from  the  farmers  who  lived  within  reach 
of  their  settlements.  Bitter  complaints  he  said  were 
often  made  of  corn,  potatoes,  or  cucumbers,  being 
spirited  away  in  the  night,  and  the  Indians  got  the 
blame  at  least,  but  from  him  they  took  nothing. 
His  lady  listened  with  no  pleased  aspect  to  this  dis 
cussion  of  the  foibles  of  her  countrymen,  and  seem 
ed  quite  willing  to  expedite  the  departure  of  the 
guests. 

The  way  to  the  *  Grand  Junction'  seemed  short 
ened  as  they  went.  The  day  was  fine  and  the 
ponies  in  excellent  spirits.  The  sportsman  came 
very  near  shooting  a  fat  buck,  and  this  miss  kept 
him  in  talk  for  all  day.  The  old  gentlemen  were 


48  ANEWHOMtfj 

much  pleased  with  certain  statistical  accounts  fut^ 
wished  them  by  the  trader,  whom  they  decided  on 
the  whole  to  be  a  very  sensible  fellow  :  and  when 
they  reached  once  more  the  chosen  spot,  they  saw 
at  a  glance  how  easily  the  marshes  could  be  drained, 
the  channel  of  the  Shark  deepened,  and  the  whole 
converted  into  one  broad  area,  on  which  to  found  a 
second  New-1  York. 

They  passed  another  night  at  the  log  hut  which 
had  first  received  them,  and  leaving  with  the  poor 
couple  who  inhabited  it,  what  cheered  their  lonely 
dwelling  for  many  a  day,  they  returned  to  Detroit. 

Our  friends  considered  the  otters  which  had  been 
made  them  so  very  advantageous  that  the  bargain 
for  the  site  at  the  '  Grand  Junction'  was  concluded 
the  very  next  day.  '  Only  one  hundred  shares  at 
three  hundred  dollars  each  !'  the  money  might  be 
quadrupled  in  a  month.  And  some  of  the  knowing 
ones,  who  took  shares  '  merely  to  oblige,'  did  real 
ize  the  golden  vision,  while  the  more  careful,  who 
held  on  to  get  the  top  of  the  market — —but  why 
should  I  tell  secrets? 

Nobody  happened  to  mention  to  these  eastern 
buyers  that  the  whole  had  been  purchased  for  four 
hundred  dollars,  just  a  week  before  they  reached 
Detroit. 

These  things  certainly  cost  a  good  deal  of  trouble 
after  all.  They  ought  to  have  paid  well,  unques 
tionably.  When  lots  were  to  be  sold,  the  whole  fair 
dream  was  splendidly  emblazoned  on  a  sheet  of 
super-royal  size ;  things  which  only  floated  before 
the  mind's  eye  of  the  most  sanguine,  were  portrayed 
with  bewitching  minuteness  for  the  delectation  of 
the  ordinary  observer.  Majestic  steamers  plied  their 
paddles  to  and  fro  upon  the  river  •  ladies  crowding 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  49 

their  decks,  and  streamers  floating  on  the  wind. 
Sloops  dotted  the  harbors,  while  noble  ships  were 
seen  in  the  offing.  Mills,  factories,  and  light-houses 
— canals,  rail-roads  and  bridges,  all  took  their  appro 
priate  positions.  Then  caine  the  advertisements, 
choicely  worded  and  carefully  vague,  never  setting 
forth  any  thing  which  might  not  come  true  at  some 
time  or  other ;  yet  leaving  the  buyer  without  excuse 
if  he  chose  to  be  taken  in. 

An  auctioneer  was  now  to  be  procured,  (for  lots 
usually  went  rather  heavily  at  private  sale,)  and  this 
auctioneer  must  not  be  such  a  one  as  any  Execu 
tive  can  make,  but  a  man  of  genius,  or  ready  inven 
tion,  of  fluent  speech ;  one  who  had  seen  something 
of  the  world,  and,  above  all,  one  who  must  be  so 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  property,  and  so  en 
tirely  convinced  of  its  value,  that  he  could  vouch  on 
his  own  personal  respectability,  for  the  truth  of  every 
statement.  He  must  be  able  to  exhibit  certificates 
from — no  matter  whom — Tom-a-Nokes  perhaps — 
but  'residing  on  the  spot' — and  he  must  find  men  of 
straw  to  lead  the  first  bids.  And  when  all  this  had 
been  attended  to,  it  must  have  required  some  nerve 
to  carry  the  matter  through  ;  to  stand  by,  while  the 
poor  artizan,  the  journeyman  mechanic,  the  stranger 
who  had  brought  his  little  all  to  buy  government 
land  to  bring  up  his  young  family  upon,  staked 
their  poor  means  on  strips  of  land  which  were  at 
that  moment  a  foot  under  water.  I  think  many  of 
these  gentlemen  earned  their  money. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  preliminaries  I 
have  enumerated,  preceded  every  successful  land- 
sale.  Many  thousand  acres  were  transferred  from 
hand  to  hand  with  a  rapidity  which  reminded  one 
irresistibly  of  the  old  French  game  of  '  le  petit  bon 


50  A      N  E  W     H  O  M  E, 

homme'  (anglicised  into  '  Robin's  alive') — while  all 
gained  save  him  in  whose  hand  Robin  died. 

I  have  known  a  piece  of  property  bought  at  five 
hundred  dollars,  sold  at  once  for  twenty  thousand  ; 
five  thousand  counted  down,  and  the  remainder  se 
cured  by  bond  and  mortgage.  Whether  these  after 
payments  were  ever  made,  is  another  question,  and 
one  which  I  am  unable  to  answer.  I  mention  the 
transaction  as  one  which  was  performed  in  all  truth 
and  fairness  savoring  nothing  of  the  '  tricksy  spirit' 
on  which  I  have  been  somewhat  diffuse. 

I  must  not  omit  to  record  the  friendly  offer  of  one 
of  the  gentlemen  whose  adventures  1  have  recapitu 
lated,  to  take  '  two  Montacute  lots  at  five  hundred 
dollars  each,'  As  this  was  rather  beyond  the  price 
which  the  owner  had  thought  fit  to  affix  to  his  or 
dinary  lots,  he  felt  exceedingly  obliged,  and  some 
what  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  proposition,  till  his 
friend  whispered,  c  and  you  shall  have  in  payment  a 
lot  at  New-New-York  at  a  thousand  ,  and  we  have 
not  sold  one  at  that  I  can  assure  you.' 

The  obliged  party  chanced  to  meet  the  agent  for 
New-New-York  about  a  year  after,  and  enquired 
the  fortunes  of  the  future  emporium,  the  number  of 
inhabitants,  (fee. 

'  There's  nobody  there,'  said  he,  '  but  those  w§ 
hire  to  come.' 


•WHO'LL    FOLLOW, 


CHAPTER  X, 

Jl/rs  Hardcastlr*  I  wish  we  were  at  home  again.  I  never  met  so  many 
Occidents  in  so  short  a  journey.  Drenched  in  the  mud,  overturned  in  the 
•ditch,  jolted  to  a  jelly,  and  at  last  to  lose  our  way. 

SHE  STOOPS  TO  CONQUER. 


AT  length  came  the  joyful  news  that  our 
ables  had  arrived  in  port;  and  provision  was  at  once 
made  for  their  transportation  to  the  banks  of  the 
Turnip.  But  many  and  dire  were  the  vexatious 
delays,  thrust  by  the  cruel  Fates  between  us  and 
the  accomplishment  of  our  plan  ;  and  it  was  not  till 
after  the  lapse  of  several  days  that  the  most  needful 
articles  were  selected  and  bestowed  in  a  large  wag 
on  which  was  to  pioneer  the  grand  body.  In  this 
wagon  had  been  reserved  a  seat  for  myself,  since  I 
had  far  too  great  an  affection  for  my  chairs  and 
tables,  to  omit  being  present  at  their  debarkation  at 
Montacute,  in  order  to  ensure  their  undisturbed 
possession  of  the  usual  compliment  of  legs.  And* 
there  were  the  children  to  be  packed  this  time,  —  ! 
little  roley-poley  things,  whom  it  would  have  been 
in  vain  to  have  marked,  'this  side  up.'  like  the  rest! 
of  the  baggage. 

A  convenient  space  must  be  contrived  for  my 
plants,  among  which  were  two  or  three  tall  gera 
niums  and  an  enormous  calla  ethiopica.  Then 
D'Orsay  must  be  accommodated,  of  course  ;  and,  to 
crown  all,  a  large  basket  of  live  fowls  ;  for  we  had 
been  told  that  there  were  none  to  be  purchased  in 
the  vicinity  of  Montacute.  Besides  these,  there  were 
all  our  travelling  trunks  ;  and  an  enormous,  square 


62  A     NEW     HOME, 

box  crammed  with  articles  which  we  then  in  otif 
greenness  considered  indispensable.  We  have  since 
learned  better. 

After  this  enumeration,  which  yet  is  only  partial? 
it  \vill  not  seem  strange  that  the  guide  and  director 
of  our  omnibus  was  to  ride 

'  On  horseback  after  we/ 

He  acted  as  a  sort  of  adjutant — galloping  forward  to 
spy  out  the  way,  or  provide  accommodations  for  the 
troop — pacing  close  to  the  wheels  to  modify  our  ar 
rangements,  to  console  one  of  the  imps  who  had 
bumped  its  pate,  or  to  give  D'Orsay  a  gentle  hint 
with  the  riding-whip  when  he  made  demonstrations 
of  mutiny — and  occasionally  falling  behind  to  pick 
up  a  stray  handkerchief  or  parasol. 

The  roads  near  Detroit  were  inexpressibly  bad. 
Many  were  the  chances  against  our  toppling  load's 
preserving  its  equilibrium.  To  our  inexperience  the 
risks  seemed  nothing  less  than  tremendous— but  the 
driver  so  often  reiterated,  c  that  a'n't  nothin','  in  reply 
to  our  despairing  exclamations,  and,  what  was  bet 
ter,  so  constantly  proved  his  words  by  passing  the 
most  frightful  inequalities  (Michiganice  l  sidlings') 
in  safety,  that  we  soon  became  more  confident,  and 
ventured  to  think  of  something  else  besides  the  ruts 
and  mud-holes. 

Our  stopping-places  after  the  first  day  were  of  the 
ordinary  new  country  class — the  very  coarsest  ac 
commodations  by  night  and  by  day,  and  all  at  the 
dearest  rate.  When  every  body  is  buying  land  and 
scarce  any  body  cultivating  it,  one  must  not  expect 
to  find  living  either  good  or  cheap  :  but,  I  confess,  I 
was  surprised  at  the  dearth  of  comforts  which  we 
observed  every  where.  Neither  milk,  eggs,  nor  veg 
etables  were  to  be  had,  and  those  who  could  not  live 


FOLLOW?  53 

on  hard  salt  ham,  stewed  dried  apples,  and  bread 
raised  with  'salt  risin,'  would  necessarily  run  some 
risk  of  starvation. 

One  word  as  to  this  and  similar  modes  of  making 
bread,  so  much  practised  throughout  this  country. 
It  is  my  opinion  that  the  sin  of  bewitching  snow- 
white  flour  by  means  of  either  of  those Tabominations, 
*  salt  risin,'  '  milk  emptins,'  *  bran  east,'  or  any  of 
their  odious^  compounds,  ought  to  be  classed  with 
the  turning  of  grain  into  whiskey,  and  both  made 
indictable  offences.  To  those  who  know  of  no  other 
means  of  producing  the  requisite  sponginess  in  bread 
than  the  wholesome  hop-yeast  of  the  brewer,  T  may 
be  allowed  to  explain  the  mode  to  which  I  have 
alluded  with  such  hearty  reprobation.  Here  follows 
the  recipe:  — 

To  make  milk  emptins.  Take  quantum  suf. 
of  good  sweet  milk — add  a  teaspoon  full  of  salt,  and 
some  water,  and  set  the  mixture  in  a  warm  place 
till  it  ferments,  then  mix  your  bread  with  it ;  and 
if  you  are  lucky  enough  to  catch  it  just  in  the  right 
moment  before  the  fermentation  reaches  the  putres- 
cerit  stage,  you  may  make  tolerably  good  rolls,  but 
if  you  are  five  minutes  too  late,  you  will  have  to 
open  your  doors  and  windows  while  your  bread  is 
baking. — Yerbam  sap.  * 

'  Salt  risin'  is  made  with  water  slightly  salted 
and  fermented  like  the  other  ;  and  becomes  putrid 
rather  sooner ;  and  '  bran  east'  is  on  the  same  plan. 
The  consequences  of  letting  these  mixtures  stand 
too  long  will  become  known  to  those  whom  it,  may 
concern,  when  they  shall  travel  through  the  remoter 
parts  of  Michigan  ;  so  1  shall  not  dwell  upon  thorn 
here — but  I  offer  my  counsel  to  such  of  my  friends 
as  may  be  removing  westward,  to  bring  with  them 
6 


54  A     NEW     HOME, 

some  form  of  portable  yeast  (the  old  fashioned  dried 
cakes  which  mothers  and  aunts  can  furnish,  are  as 
good  as  any) — and  also  full  instructions  for  perpetu 
ating  the  same  ;  and  to  plant  hops  as  soon  as  they 
get  a  corner  to  plant  them  in. 

'  And  may  they  better  reck  the  rede, 
Than  ever  did  th'  adviser.' 

The  last  two  days  of  our  slow  journey  were  agree 
ably  diversified  with  sudden  and  heavy  showers,  and 
intervals  of  overpowering  sunshine.  The  weather 
had  all  the  changefulness  of  April,  with  the  torrid 
heat  of  July.  Scarcely  would  we  find  shelter  from 
the  rain  which  had  drenched  us  completely — when 
the  sunshine  would  tempt  us  forth  :  and  by  the  time 
all  the  outward  gear  was  dried,  and  matters  in  readi 
ness  for  a  continuation  of  our  progress,  another 
threatening  cloud  would  drive  us  back,  though  it 
never  really  rained  till  we  started. 

We  had  taken  a  newly  opened  and  somewrhat 
lonely  route  this  time,  in  deference  to  the  opinion  of 
those  who  ought  to  have  known  better,  that  this 
road  from  having  been  less  travelled  would  not  be 
quite  so  deep  as  the  other.  As  we  went  farther  into 
the  wilderness,  the  difficulties  increased.  The  road 
had  been  rkit  little  '  worked,'  (the  expression  in  such 
cases,)  and  in  some  parts  was  almost  in  a  state  of 
nature.  Where  it  wound  round  the  edge  of  a 
marsh,  where  in  future  times  there  will  be  a  bridge 
or  drain,  the  wheels  on  one  side  would  be  on  the 
dry  ground,  while  the  others  were  sinking  in  the 
long  wet  grass  of  the  marsh— and  in  such  places  it 
was  impossible  to  discern  inequalities  which  yet 
might  overturn  us  in  an  instant.  In  one  case  of 
this  sort  we  were  obliged  to  dismount  the  '  live 
lumber' — as  the  man  who  helped  us  through  phras- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  55 

ed  it,  and  let  the  loaded  wagon  pass  on,  while  we 
followed  in  an  empty  one  which  was  fortunately  at 
hand — and  it  was,  in  my  eyes,  little  short  of  a  mir 
acle  that  our  skilful  friend  succeeded  in  piloting 
safely  the  top-heavy  thing  which  seemed  thrown 
completely  off  its  centre  half  a  dozen  times. 

At  length  we  came  to  a  dead  stand.  Our  driver 
had  received  special  cautions  as  to  a  certain  mash 
that  '  lay  between  us  and  our  home' — to  '  keep  to 
the  right' — to  '  follow  the  travel'  to  a  particular 
point,  and  then  '  turn  up  stream  :'  hut  whether  the 
very  minuteness  and  reiteration  of  the  directions 
had  puzzled  him.  as  is  often  the  case,  or  whether 
his  good  genius  had  for  once  forsaken  him,  I  know 
not.  We  had  passed  the  deep  centre  of  the  miry 
slough,  when  by  some  unlucky  hair's  breadth  swerv 
ing,  in  went  our  best  horse — our  sorrel — our  '  Prince,' 
— the  'off  haus,'  whpse  value  had  been  speered  three 
several  times  since  we  left  Detroit,  with  magnificent 
offers  of  a  *  swop  !'  The  noble  fellow,  unlike  the 
tame  beasties  that  are  used  to  such  occurrences, 
showed  his  good  blood  by  kicking  and  plunging, 
which  only  made  his  case  more  desperate.  A  few 
moments  more  would  have  left  us  with  a  '  single 
team,'  when  his  master  succeeded  in  -cutting  the 
traces  with  his  penknife.  Once  freed,  Prince  soon 
made  his  way  out  of  the  bog- hole  and  pranced  off, 
far  up  the  green  swelling  hill  which  lay  before  us — 
out  of  sight  in  an  instant — and  there  we  sat  in  the 
marsh. 

There  is  but  one  resource  in  such  cases.  You 
must  mount  your  remaining  horse,  if  you  have  one, 
and  ride  on  till  you  find  a  farmer  and  one,  two,  or 
three  pairs  of  oxen — and  all  this  accomplished,  you 
may  generally  hope  for  a  release  in  time. 


56  A     NEW     HOME, 

The  interval  seemed  a  leetle  tedious,  I  confess. 
To  sit  for  three  mortal  hours  in  an  open  wagon, 
under  a  hot  sun,  in  the  midst  of  a  swamp,  is  not 
pleasant.  The  expanse  of  inky  mud  which  spread 
around  us,  was  hopeless,  as  to  any  attempt  at  get 
ting  ashore.  I  crept  .cautiously  down  the  tongue, 
and  tried  one  or  two  of  the  tempting  green  tufts, 
which  looked  as  if  they  might  afford  foothold  ;  but 
alas  !  they  sank  under  the  slightest  pressure.  So  1 
was  fain  to  regain  my  low  chair,  with  its  abundant 
cushions,  and  lose  myself  in  a  book.  The  children 
thought  it  fine  fun  for  a  little  while,  but  then  they 
began  to  want  a  drink.  J  never  knew  children  who 
did  not,  when  there  was  no  water  to  be  had. 

There  ran  through  the  very  midst  of  all  this  black 
pudding,  as  clear  a  stream  as  ever  rippled,  and  the 
wagon  stood  almost  in  it  ! — but  how  to  get  at  it? 
The  basket  which  had  contained,  when  we  left  the 
city,  a  store  of  cakes  and  oranges,  which  the  children 
thought  inexhaustible,  held  now  nothing  but  the 
napkins,  which  had  enveloped  those  departed  joys, 
and  those  napkins,  suspended  corner-wise,  and  soak 
ed  long  and  often  in  the  crystal  water,  served  for 
business  and  pleasure,  till  papa  came  back. 

'  They're  coming  !  They're  coming  !'  was  the 
cry,  and  with  the  word,  over  went  Miss  Alice,  who 
had  been  reaching  as  far  as  she  could,  trying  how 
large  a  proportion  of  her  napkin  she  could  let  float 
on  the  water. 

Oh,  the  shrieks  and  the  exclamations  !  how  hard 

papa  rode,  and  how  hard  mamma  scolded  !    but  the 

I  little  witch  got  no  harm  beyond  a  thorough  wetting, 

\  and  a  few  streaks  of  black  mud,  and  felt  herself  a 

\heroine  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 


WHG?LL     FOLLOW?  57 


CHAPTER  XL 

Rous'd  at  his  name,  up  rose  the  boozy  sire) 

****** 

In  vain,  in  vain, the  all-composing  hour 

Resistless  falls :    the  Muse  obeys  the  power. 

POPE* 

THE  night  dews  were  falling  chill  and  heavy 
when  we  crossed  the  last  log  causeway,  and  saw  a 
dim  glimmering  in  the  distance.  The  children 
were  getting  horribly  cross  and  sleepy.  The  un 
fortunate  anchoring  in  the  black  swamp  had  de 
ranged  our  plans  by  about  three  hours,  and  when 
we  reached  our  destined  resting-place,  which  was 
the  log-house  where  I  had  been  so  happy  as  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  Miss  Irene  Ketchum,  and 
her  dignified  mamma,  the  family  had  retired  to  rest, 
except  Mr  Ketchum,  who  rested  without  retiring. 

The  candle,  a  long  twelve  I  should  judge,  was 
standing  on  the  table,  and  wasting  rapidly  under 
the  influence  of  a  very  long  snuff,  which  reclined 
upon  its  side.  Upon  the  same  table,  and  almost 
touching  the  tall  iron  candlestick,  was  a  great  mop- 
py  head ;  and  this  head  rested  in  heavy  slumber  on 
the  brawny  arms  of  the  master  of  the  house. 

'  Ketchum!  Ketchum!'  echoed  a  shrill  voice  from 
within  the  pinned-up  sheets  in  one  corner,  and  I 


58  A     NEW     HOME, 

might  have  thought  the   woman  was  setting  the 
dog  at  us,  if  1  had  not  recognized  the  dulcet-treble 

of  the  fair  Irene  from  the  other  bed 'Pa,  pa,  get 

up,  can't  you  ?  ' 

Thus  conjured,  the  master  of  the  monsion  tried  to 
overcome  the  still  potent  effects  of  his  evening  pota 
tions,  enough  to  understand  what  was  the  matter, 
but  in  vain.  He  could  only  exclaim,  '  What  the 
devil's  got  into  the  women  ?'  and  down  went  the 
head  again, 

Mrs  Kel.chum  had,  by  this  time,  exchanged  the 
night  for  the  day  cap,  and  made  herself,  otherwise, 
tolerably  presentable.  She  said  she  had  supposed 
we  were  not  coming,  it  was  so  late  ;  (it  was  just  half 
/past  eight,)  and  then  like  many  other  poor  souls  I 
[have  known,  tried  hard  to  hide  her  husband's  real 
^difficulty. 

'  1  Ie  was  so  tired  !'  she  said. 
How  long  the  next  hour  seemed  !  A  summer 
day  in  some  company  I  wot  of,  would  not  seem  half 
as  tedious.  It  took  all  papa's  ingenuity,  and  more 
than  all  mamma's  patience  to  amuse  the  poor  chil 
dren,  till  matters  were  arranged  ;  but  at  length  the 
important  matter  of  supper  being  in  some  sort  con 
cluded,  preparations  were  made  for  '  retiracy? 

Up  the  stick  ladder  we  all  paced  '  slowly  and 
sadly.'  Miss  Irene  preceding  us  with  the  remnant 
of  the  long  twelve,  leaving  all  below  in  darkness. 
The  aspect  of  our  lodging  place  was  rather  porten 
tous.  Two  bedsteads,  which  looked  as  if  they  might, 
by  no  Jvery  violent  freak  of  nature,  have  grown  into 
their  present  form,  a  good  deal  of  bark  being  yet 
upon  them,  occupied  the  end  opposite  the  stairs  ; 
and  between  them  was  a  window,  without  either 
glass  or  shutter — that  is  to  say,  politeness  aside,  a 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  59 

square  hole  in  the  house.  Three  beds  spread  upon 
the  floor,  two  chests,  and  a  spinning-wheel,  with 
reel  and  swifts,  completed  the  plenishing  of  the 
room.  Two  of  the  beds  were  already  tenanted,  as 
the  vibrations  of  the  floor  might  have  told  us  with 
out  the  aid  of  ears,  (people  snore  incredibly  after 
ploughing  all  day,)  and  the  remainder  were  at  our 
service.  The  night  air  pouring  in  at  the  aperture 
seemed  to  me  likely  to  bring  death  on  its  dewy 
wings,  and  when  I  looked  up  and  saw  the  stars 
shining  through  the  crevices  in  the  roof,  I  thought  I 
might  venture  to  have  the  wid-er  rent  closed,  al 
though  I  had  been  sensible  of  some  ill  resulting 
from  the  close  quarters  at  Danforth's.  So  a  quilt, 
that  invaluable  resource  in  the  woods,  was  stuck  up 
before  the  window,  and  the  unhinged  cover  of  one 
of  the  chests  was  used  as  a  lid  for  the  stairway,  for 
fear  the  children  might  fall  down.  Sheets  served 
to  partition  off  a  '  tyring  room'  round  my  bed — an 
expedient  frequently  resorted  to — and  so  dangerous 
that  it  is  wonderful  so  few  houses  are  burnt  down 
in  this  country.  And  thus  passed  my  first  night  in 
Montacute. 

I  do  not  remember  experiencing  at  any  time  in 
my  life,  a  sense  of  more  complete  uncomfortableness 
than  was  my  lot,  on  awakening  the  next  morning, 
It  seemed  to  arise  entirely  from  my  anticipations 
of  the  awkward  and  tedious  inconveniences  of 
our  temporary  sojourn  at  this  place,  where  every 
thing  was  so  different  from  our  ideas  of  comfort,  or 
even  decency.  But  I  have  since  been  convinced, 
that  sleeping  in  an  exhausted  atmosphere,  of  which 
those  who  slept  on  the  bedsteads  felt  the  effect  more 
sensibly  than  those  who  lay  on  the  floor,  had  no 
small  agency  in  producing  this  depression  of  spirits,/ 
so  unusual  with  me. 

'  •       **•    £.£-*•    .^. 


A     NEW     HOMEr 

/  Be  this  as  it  may,  my  troubles,  when  the  children 
were  to  be  washed  and  dressed,  became  real  and 
tangible  enough  ;  fory  however  philosophical  grown 
people  may  sometimes  be  under  disagreeables  con 
sequent  upon  a  change  of  habits,  children  are  very 
epicures,  and  will  put  up  with  nothing  that  is  un 
pleasant  to  them,  without  at  least  making  a  noiser 
which  I  do  detest  and  dread;  though  I  know  moth 
ers  ought  to  l  gemiseo^loT  such  things.'  I  have 
heard  that  eels  get  accustomed  to  being  skinned,, 
but  I  doubt  the  fact. 

That  morning  was  the  first  and  the  last  time  I 
ever  attempted  to  carry  through  the  ordinary  nursery 
routine,  in  a  log  hut,  without  a  servant,  and  with  a 
skillet  for  a  wash-basin. 

The  little  things  did  get  dressed  after  awhilef 
however,  and  were  safely  escorted  down  the  stick 
ladder,  and  it  was  really  a  pleasure  to  see  them 
careering  round  the  house,  rioting  in  their  freedom, 
and  to  hear  now  and  then  a  merry  laugh,  awaken 
ing  the  echoes.  Children  are  the  true  bijouterie  of 
i  the  woods  and  wilds.  How  weary  would  my  last 
three  years  have  been,  without  the  cares  and  troubles 
(they  have  brought  me  ! 

Our  breakfast,  of  undistinguishable  green  tea, 
milk-rising  bread,  and  salt  ham,  did  not  consume 
much  time,  and  most  fortunately  we  here  found 
milk  for  the  children,  who  of  course  made  out 
sumptuously.  It  was  the  first  time  since  we  left 
Detroit,  that  we  had  been  able  to  procure  more 
than  a  small  allowance  for  the  tea. 

My  first  care  was  to  inquire  where  I  might  be 
able  to  procure  a  domestic,  for  I  saw  plainly  1  must 
not  expect  any  aid  from  Miss  Irene  or  her  younger 
sister,  who  were  just  such  'captive-princess'  looking 


^L  L     FOLLOW?  61 

Damsels  as  Miss  Martineau  mentions  having  seen  at 
a  country  inn  somewhere  on  her  tour. 

•  Well,  I  don't  know,'  said  Mrs  Ketchum  in  reply 
to  my  questions  ;  '  there  was  a  young  lady  here 
yesterday  that  was  saying  she  didn't  know  but  she'd 
live  out  a  spell  till  she'd  bought  her  a  new  dress.' 

'  Oh  !  but  1  wish  to  get  a  girl  who  will  remain 
with  me ;  I  should  not  like  to  change  often.' 

Mrs  Ketchum  smiled  rather  scornfully  at  this, 
and  said  there  were  not  many  girls  about  here  that 
cared  to  live  out  long  at  a  time. 

My  spirits  fell  at  this  view  of  the  matter.  Some 
of  my  dear  theorizing  friends  in  the  civilized  world 
had  dissuaded  me  most  earnestly  from  bringing  a 
maid  with  me. 

'She  would  always  be  discontented  and  anxious 
to  return  ;  and  you'll  find  plenty  of  good  farmer's 
daughters  ready  to  live  with  you  for  the  sake  of 
earning  a  little  money.' 

Good  souls  !  how  little  did  they  know  of  Michi 
gan  !  I  have  since  that  day  seen  the  interior  of 
many  a  wretched  dwelling,  with  almost  literally 
nothing  in  it  but  a  bed,  a  chest,  and  a  table  ;  chil 
dren  ragged  to  the  last  degree,  and  potatoes  the  only 
fare  ;  but  never  yet  saw  I  one  where  the  daughter 
was  willing  to  own  herself  obliged  to  live  out  at  ser 
vice.  She  would  i  hire  out'  long  enough  to  buy  , 
some  article  of  dress  perhaps,  or  '  because  our  folks 
have  been  sick,  and  want  a  little  money  to  pay  the 
doctor,'  or  for  some  such  special  reason  ;  but  never 
as  a  regular  calling,  or  with  an  acknowledgment  of 
inferior  station. 

This  state  of  things  appalled  me  at  first ;  but  I  \ 
have  learned  a  better  philosophy  since.  I  find  no  ; 
difficulty  now  in  getting  such  aid  as  I  require,  andj/ 


A     NEW     HOME,- 

but  little  in  retaining  it  as  long-  as  I  wish,  though 
there  is  always  a  desire  of  making  an  occasional 
display  of  independence.  Since  living  with  one  for 
wages  is  considered  by  common  consent  a  favor,  I 
take  it  as  a  favor  ;  and,  this  point  once  conceded,  all 
goes  well.  Perhaps  I  have  been  peculiarly  fortu 
nate  ;  but  certainly  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  I 
have  little  or  nothing  to  complain  of  on  this  essential 
point  of  domestic  comfort. 

To  be  sure,  1  had  one  damsel  who  crammed  her 
self  almost  to  suffocation  with  sweetmeats  and  other 
things  which  she  esteemed  very  nice  ;  and  ate  up 
her  own  pies  and  cake,  to  the  exclusion  of  those  for 
whom  they  were  intended  ;:  who  would  put  her  head 
in  at  a  door,  with — ' -Miss  Claver s,  did  you  holler  t 
I  thought  I  heercd  a  yelL' 

And  another  who  was  highly  offended,  because 
room  was  not  made  for  her  at  table  with  guests  from 
the  city,  and  that  her  company  was  not  requested 
for  tea  visits.  And  this  latter  high-born  damsel  sent 
in  from  the  kitchen  a  circumstantial  account  in 
writing y  of  the  instances  wherein  she  considered 
herself  aggrieved  ;  well  written  it  was  too,  and  ex 
pressed  with  much  naivete,  and  abundant  respect. 
I  answered  it  in  the  way  which  '  turneth  away 
wrath.'  Yet  it  was  not  long  before  this  fiery  spirit 
was  aroused  again,  and  I  was  forced  to  part  with 
my  country  belle.  But  these  instances  are  not  very 
tremendous  even  to  the  city  habits  I  brought  with 
me  ;  and  I  cannot  say  I  regret  having  been  obliged 
to  relinquish  what  was,  after  allr  rather  a  silly  sort 
of  pride.  But  bless  me  !  how  I  get  before  my  story  ! 
I  viewed  the  matter  very  differently  when  I  was  at 
Ketchum's.  My  philosophy  was  of  slow  growth. 

On  reflection,  it  was  thought  best  not  to  add  an- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  63 

sDther  sleeper  to  the  loft,  and  I  concluded  to  wait  on 
myself  and  the  children  while  we  remained  at  Ketch- 
urn's,  which  we  hoped  would  be  but  for  a  day  or 
two.      I  can  only  say,  1  contrived  to  simplify  the  \ 
matter  xvery  much,  when  I  had  no  one  to  depend  on  I 
but   myself.      The  children   had  dirty  faces,   and  \ 
aprons  which  would  have  effected  their  total  exclu 
sion   from  genteel  society  more  than  half  the  time ; 
and  I  was  happy  to  encourage  the  closest  intimacy 
between  them  and  the  calves  and  chickens,  in  order 
to  gain  some  peace  within  doors.     Mrs  Ketchum 
certainly  had  her  own  troubles  during  our  sojourn 
under  her  leaky  roof ;  for  the  two  races  commingled 
not  without  loud  and  long  effervescence,  threatening 
at  times  nothing  short  of  a  Kilkenny-cat  battle,  end-1 
ing  in  mutual  extermination. 

My  office,  on  these  occasions,  was  an  humble  im 
itation  of  the  plan  of  the  celestials  in  ancient  times ; 
to  snatch  away  the  combatant  in  whom  I  was  most 
interested,  and  then  to  secrete  him  for  a  while,  using 
as  a  desert  island  one  of  the  beds  in  the  loft,  where 
the  unfortunate  had  to  dree  a  weary  penance;  and 
generally  came  down  quite  tame. 


64  A     NEW     HOME? 


CHAPTER  XIL 


The  ripeness  or  unripeness  of  the  occasion  must  ever  be  well  weighed  f 
and  generally,  it  is  good  to  commit  the  beginnings  of  all  great  actions  t»- 
Argus?  with  his  hundred  eyes,  and  the  ends  to  Briareus  with  his  hundred 
bands.  BACON. 

Trust  not  yoarself ;   but  your  defects  to  know 
Make  use  of  every  friend. 

For*. 


THE  log-house,  which  was  to  be  our  temporary 
home,  was  tenanted  at  this  time ;  and  we  were 
obliged  to  wait  while  the  incumbent  could  build  a 
framed  one;  the  materials  for  which  had  been  grow 
ing  in  the  woods  not  long  before  ;  I  was  told  it 
would  take  but  a  short  time,  as  it  was  already 
framed. 

What  was  my  surprise,  on  walking  that  way  to 
ascertain  the  progress  of  things,  to  find  the  materials 
still  scattered  on  the  ground,  and  the  place  quite 
solitary- 

'  Did  not  Mr  Ketchum  say  Green's  house  was 
framed  ?'  said  I  to  the  dame  du  palais,  on  my  re 
turn  ;  <  the  timbers  are  all  lying  on  the  ground,  and 
nobody  at  work.' 

'  Why,  la  !  so  they  be  all  framed,  and  Green's 
gone  to  — —  for  the  sash.  They'll  be  ready  to  raise 
to-morrow.' 


FOLLOW?  65 

It  took  me  some  time  to  understand  that  fram* 
was  nothing  more  than  cutting  the  tenons  and 
mortices  ready  for  putting  the  timbers  together,  and 
that  these  must  be  raised  before  there  could  be  a 
frame.  And  that  '  sash,'  which  I  in  my  ignorance 
supposed  could  be  but  for  one  window,  was  a 
.generic  term. 

The  4  raising'  took  place  the  following  afternoon, 
and  was  qnite  an  amusing  scene  to  us  cockneys, 
until  one  man's  thumb  was  frightfully  mashed,  and 
another  had  a  severe  blow  upon  the  head.  A  jug 
-of  whiskey  was  pointed  out  by  those  who  understood 
the  matter,  as  the  true  cause  of  these  disasters,  al* 
though  the  Fates  got  the  blame. 

'  Jem  White  always  has  sisch  bad  luck  V  said  Mr 
Ketchum,  on  his  return  from  the  raising,  '•  aftd  word 
spake  never  more,'  for  that  night  at  least ;  for  he 
•disappeared  behind  the  mysterious  curtain,  and  soon 
snored  most  sonorously. 

The  many  raisings  which  have  beea  accomplish 
ed  at  Montacute,  without  that  ruinous  ally,  strong 
drink,  since  the  days  of  which  I  speak,  have  been 
free  from  accidents  of  any  sort ;  Jem  White  having 
•carried  his  *  bad  luck'  to  a  distant  country,  and  left 
his  wife  and  children  to  be  taken  care  of  by  the 
public. 

Our  cottage  bore  about  the  same  proportion  to  the 
articles  we  had  expected  to  put  into  it  that  the  'lytell 
hole5  did  to  the  fiend  whom  Virgilius  cajoled  into  its 
narrow  compass ;  and  the  more  we  reflected,  the 
more  certain  we  became  that  without  the  rnagic 
powers  of  necromancy,  one  half  of  our  moveables  at 
least  must  remain  in  the  open  air.  To  avoid  such 
necessity,  Mr  Clavers  was  obliged  to  return  to  De- 
7 


66  A     NEW     HOME, 

troit  and  provide  storage  for  sundry  unwieldy 
which  could  by  no  art  of  ours  be  conjured  into  our 
cot. 

While  he  was  absent,  Green  had  enclosed  his 
new  house  ;  that  is  to  say,  put  on  the  roof  and  the 
sliding,  and  laid  one  floor,  and  forthwith  he  re 
moved  thither  without  door,  window,  or  chimney,  a 
course  by  no  means  unusual  in  Michigan. 

As  I  was  by  this  time,  truth  to  speak,  very  nearly 
starved,  I  was  anxious  to  go  as  soon  as  possible  to  a 
place  where  I  could  feel  a  little  more  at  home  ;  and 
so  completely  had  my  nine  days  at  Ketch um '9 
brought  down  my  ideas,  that  I  anticipated  real  sat 
isfaction  in  a  removal  to  this  hut  in  the  wilderness. 
I  would  not  wait  for  Mr  Clavers'  return  ;  but  insist 
ed  on  setting  up  for  myself  at  once. 

But  I  should  in  vain  attempt  to  convey  to  those 
who  know  nothing  of  the  woods,  any  idea  of  the 
difficulties  in  my  way.  If  one's  courage  did  not 
increase,  and  one's  invention  brighten  under  the 
stimulus  of  such  occasions,  I  should  have  given  up 
at  the  outset,  as  1  have  often  done  with  far  less 
cause. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  get  a  'lady'  to  clean  the 
place,  and  ne'er  had  place  more  need  of  the  tutelary 
aid  of  the  goddess  of  scrubbing  brushes.  Then  this 
lady  must  be  provided  with  the  necessary  utensilsr 
and  here  arose  dilemma  upon  dilemma.  Mrs  Ketcli- 
um  rendered  what  aid  she  could,  but  there  was  little 
superfluous  in  her  house. 

And  then,  such  racing  and  chasing,  such  mes 
sages  and  requisitions  !  Mrs  Jennings  'couldn't  do 
nothin '  without  a  mop.  and  I  had  not  thought  of 
such  a  thing,  and  was  obliged  to  sacrifice  on  the 


FOLLOW?  67 

spot  sundry  nice  towels,  a  necessity  which  made  all 
the  house-keeping  blood  in  my  veins  tingle. 

After  one  day's  experience  of  this  sort,  I  decided 
to  go  myself  to  the  scene  of  action,  so  as  to  be  at 
hand  for  these  trying  occasions  ;  and  1  induced  Mr 
Ketchuni  to  procure  a  wagon  and  carry  to  our  new 
home  the  various  articles  which  we  had  piled  in  a 
hovel  on  his  premises. 

Behold  me  then  seated  on  a  box,  in  the  midst  of 
as  anomalous  a  congregation  of  household  goods  as 
ever  met  under  one  roof  in  the  backwoods,  engaged 
in  the  seemingly  hopeless  task  of  calling  order  out 
of  chaos,  attempting  occasionally  to  throw  out  a  hint 
for  the  instruction  of  Mrs  Jennings,  who  uniformly 
replied  by  requesting  me  not  to  fret,  as  she  knew 
what  she  was  about. 

Mr  Jennings,  with  the  aid  of  his  sons,  undertook 
the  release  of  the  pent-up  myriads  of  articles  which 
crammed  the  boxes,  many  of  which  though  ranked 
when  they  were  put  in  as  absolutely  essential,  seem 
ed  ridiculously  superfluous  when  they  came  out. 
The  many  observations  made  by  the  spectators  as 
each  new  wonder  made  its  appearance,  though  at 
first  rather  amusing,  became  after  a  while  quite 
vexatious  ;  for  the  truth  began  to  dawn  upon  me 
that  the  common  sense  was  all  on  their  side. 

<  What  on  airth's  them  gimcracks  for  ? '  said  my 
lady,  as  a  nest  of  delicate  japanned  tables  were  set 
out  upon  the  uneven  floor. 

I  tried  to  explain  to  her  the  various  convenient 
uses  to  which  they  were  applicable  ;  but  she  looked 
very  scornfully  after  all  and  said,  '  I  guess  they'l 
do  better  for  kindlins  than  any  thing  else,  here.' 
And  I  began  to  cast  a  disrespectful  glance  upon 
myself,  and  forthwith  ordered  them  up  stairs, 


68  ANEWHOMEy 

wondering  in  my  own  mind  how  I  could  have 
thought  a  log  house  would  afford  space  for  such 
superfluities. 

All  this  time  there  was  a  blazing  fire  in  the 
chimney  to  accommodate  Mrs  Jennings  in  her  op 
erations,  and  while  the  doors  and  windows  were 
open  we  were  not  sensible  of  much  discomfort  from 
it.  Supper  was  prepared  and  eaten — beds  spread 
on  the  floor,  and  the  children  stowed  away.  Mrs- 
Jennings  arid  our  other  '  helps'  had  departed;  and  I 
prepared  to  rest  from  my  unutterable  weariness, 
when  I  began  to  be  sensible  of  the  suffocating  heat 
of  the  place.  I  tried  to  think  it  would  grow  cooler 
in  a  little  while,  but  it  was  absolutely  insufferable  to 
the  children  as  well  as  myself,  and  I  was  fain  to  set 
both  doors  open,  and  in  this  exposed  situation  passed 
;the  first  night  in  my  western  home,  alone  with  my 
'children  and  far  from  any  neighbor. 

If  I  could  live  a  century,  I  think  that  night  will 
never  fade  from  my  memory.  Excessive  fatigue 
made  it  impossible  to  avoid  falling  asleep,  yet  the 
fear  of  being  devoured  by  wild  beasts,  or  poisoned 
by  rattlesnakes,  caused  me  to  start  up  after  every 
nap  with  sensations  of  horror  and  alarm,  which 
could  hardly  have  been  increased  by  the  actual  oc 
currence  of  all  1  dreaded.  Many  wretched  hours 
passed  in  this  manner.  At  length  sleep  fairly  over 
came  fear,  and  we  were  awakened  only  by  a  wild 
storm  of  wind  and  rain  which  drove  in  upon  us  and 
completely  wetted  every  thing  within  reach. 
,  A  doleful  morning  was  this — no  fire  on  the* 
hearth — streams  of  water  on  the  floor — and  three 
hungry  children  to  get  breakfast  for.  I  tried  to  kin 
dle  a  blaze  with  matches,  but  alas,  even  the  straw 
from  the  packing-boxes  was  soaked  with  the  cruel 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  69 

rain  ;  and  I  was  distributing  bread  to  tbe  hungry, 
hopeless  of  any  thing  more,  when  Mr  Jennings 
made  his  appearance, 

'I  was  thinking  you'd  begin  to  be  sick  o' your 
bargain  by  this  time,"1  said  the  good  man,  *  and  so  I 
thought  I'd  come  and  help  you  a  spell.  I  reckon 
you'd  ha'  done  better  to  have  waited  till  the  old  man 
got  back.' 

1  What  old  man  ?'  asked  I,  in  perfect  astonish 
ment. 

'  Why,  your  old  man  to  be  sure,'  said  he  laugh 
ing.  I  had  yet  to  learn  that  in  Michigan,  as  soon 
as  a  man  marries  he  becomes  '  the  old  man,'  though 
he  may  be  yet  in  his  minority.  Not  long  since  I 
gave  a  young  bride  the  how  d'  ye  do  in  passing, 
and  the  reply  was,  *  I'm  pretty  well,  but  my  old 
man's  sick  a-bed.' 

But  to  return.  Mr  Jennings  kindled  a  fire  which 
I  took  care  should  be  a  very  moderate  one  ;  and  1 
managed  to  make  a  cup  of  tea  to  dip  our  bread  in, 
and  then  proceeded  to  find  places  for  the  various 
articles  which  strewed  the  floor.  Some  auger-holes 
bored  in  the  logs  received  large  and  long  pegs,  and 
these  served  to  support  boards  which  were  to  answer 
the  purpose  of  shelves.  It  was  soon  found  that  the 
multiplicity  of  articles  which  were  to  be  accommo 
dated  on  these  shelves  would  fill  them  a  dozen 
times. 

'  Now  to  my  thinkin,'  said  my  good  genius,  Mr 
Jennings,  '  that  'ere  soup  t'reen,  as  you  call  it,  and 
them  little  ones,  and  these  here  great  glass-dishes, 
and  all  sich^  might  jist  as  well  go  up  chamber  for  all 
the  good  they'll  ever  do  you  here.' 

This  could  not  be  gainsaid  ;    and  the  good  man 


70  AffEWHOME, 

proceeded  to  exalt  them  to  another  set  of  extempore 
shelves  in  the  upper  story;  and  so  many  articles  were 
included  in  the  same  category,  that  I  began  to  con 
gratulate  myself  on  the  increase  of  clear  space  be 
low,  and  to  fancy  we  should  soon  begin  to  look  very 
comfortable. 

My  ideas  of  comfort  were  by  this  time  narrowed 
down  to  a  well-swept  room  with  a  bed  in  one  corner, 
and  cooking  apparatus  in  another-— and  this  in 
some  fourteen  days  from  the  city  !  I  can  scarcely, 
myself,  credit  the  reality  of  the  change. 

It  was  not  till  I  had  occasion  to  mount  the  ladder 
that  I  realized  that  all  I  had  gained  on  the  confu 
sion  below  was  most  hopelessly  added  to  the  confu 
sion  above,  and  I  came  down  with  such  a  sad  and 
thoughtful  brow,  that  my  good  aid-de-camp  perceiv 
ed  my  perplexity. 

'  Hadn't  1  better  go  and  try  to  get  one  of  the 
neighbor's  gals  to  come  and  help  you  for  a  few 
days  ?  '  said  he. 

I  was  delighted  with  the  offer,  and  gave  him 
carte-blanche  as  to  terms,  which  I  afterwards  found 
was  a  mistake,  for  where  sharp  bargains  are  the 
grand  aim  of  every  body,  those  who  express  any 
thing  like  indifference  on  the  subject,  are  set  down 
at  once  as  having  more  money  than  they  know 
what  to  do  with  ;  and  as  this  was  far  from  being  rny 
case,  T  found  reason  to  regret  having  given  room  for 
the  conclusion. 

The  damsel  made  her  appearance  before  a  great 
while-— a  neat  looking  girl  with  '  scarlet  hair  and 
belt  to  match  ;'  and  she  im mediately  set  about  '  re 
conciling'  as  she  called  it,  with  a  good  degree  of  en 
ergy  and  ingenuity.  I  was  forced  to  confess  that 
she  knew  much  better  than  I  how  to  make  a  log- 
house  comfortable. 


FOLLOW?  71 

She  began  by  turning  out  of  doors  the  tall  cup 
board,  which  had  puzzled  me  all  the  morning,  ob 
serving  very  justly,  '  Where  there  ain't  no  room  for 
a  thing,  why,  there  ain't ;'  and  this  decision  cut  the 
Gordian  knot  of  all  my  plans  and  failures  in  the 
disposal  of  the  ungainly  convenience.  It  did  yeo 
man's  service  long  afterwards  as  a  corn-crib. 

When  the  bedsteads  were  to  be  put  up,  the  key 
was  among  the  missing ;  and  after  we  had  sent  far 
and  wide  and  borrowed  a  key,  or  the  substitute  for 
one,  no  screws  could  be  found,  and  we  were  reduced 
to  the  dire  necessity  of  trying  to  keep  the  refractory 
posts  in  their  places  by  means  of  ropes.  Then  there 
were  candles,  but  no  candle-sticks.  This  seemed  at 
first  rather  inconvenient,  but  when  Mr  Jennings 
had  furnished  blocks  of  wood  with  auger-holes  bored 
in  them  for  sockets,  we  could  do  nothing  but  praise 
the  ingenuity  of  the  substitute. 

My  rosy-haired  Phillida,  who  rejoiced  in  the  eu 
phonious  appellation  of  Angeline,  made  herself  en 
tirely  at  home,  looking  into  my  trunks,  &c.  and 
asking  the  price  of  various  parts  of  my  dress.  She 
wondered  why  I  had  not  my  hair  cut  off,  and  said 
she  reckoned  I  would  before  long,  as  it  was  all  the 
fashion  about  there. 

'  When  d'ye  expect  him  V  said  the  damsel,  with 
an  air  of  sisterly  sympathy,  and  ere  I  could  reply 
'  becomingly,  a  shout  of  'tiny  joy'  told  me  that  Papa 
1  had  come. 

I  did  not  cry  for  sorrow  this  time. 


72  A     NEW     HOME; 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

''    Dans  toutcs  les  professions  et  dans  tous  les  arts,  chacun  se  fait  une  min* 
|  et    un  exterieur  qu'il   met  en   la  place   de  la  chose    dont  il  veut  avoir   la 
•'  merite ;  de  sorte  que  tout  le  monde  n'est  compose  que  des  mines  ;  et  c'est 
inutilement  que  nous  travaillons  i  y  trouver  rien  dc  reel. 

RodHEFOUCXCLT. 

We  See  the  reign  or  tyranny  of  custom,  what  it  is.  The  Indians  lay 
themselves  quietly  upon  a  stack  of  wood,  and  go  sacrifice  themselves  bj 
fire.  ***** 

Since  custom  is  the  principal  magistrate  of  man's  life,  let  men  by  alf 
means  endeavor  to  obtain  good  customs. 

BACON. 

DIFFICULTIES  began  to  melt  away  like  frosty 
rime  after  this.  Some  were  removed,  but  to  many 
we  became  habituated  in  a  far  shorter  time  than  I 
could  hav7e  imagined  possible.  A  carpenter  con 
structed  a  narrow  flight  of  board-steps  which  really 
seemed  magnificent  after  the  stick-ladder.  The 
screws  came  before  the  bedsteads  were  quite  spoiled, 
and  the  arrival  of  my  bureau — (he  unpacking  of  the 
box  among  whose  multifarious  contents  appeared  the 
coffee-mill,  the  smoothing-irons,  the  snuffers,  gave 
more  real  delight  than  that  of  any  case  of  splen 
did  Parisian  milinery  that  ever  drew  together  a 

bevy  of  belles  at  Mrs 's  show-rooms.     I  never  \ 

before  knew  the  value  of  a  portable  desk,  or  real 
ized  that  a  bottle  of  ink  might  be  reckoned  among  j 
one's  treasures. 


FOLLOW?  73 

Our  preparations  for  residence  were  on  a  very 
limited  scale,  for  we  had  no  idea  of  inhabiting  the 
loggery  more  than  six  weeks  or  two  months  at 
farthest.  Our  new  dwelling  was  to  be  put  up  im 
mediately,  and  our  arrangements  were  to  be  only 
temporary.  So  easily  are  people  deluded  ! 

The  Montacute  mill  was  now  in  progress,  and 
had  grown  (on  paper)  in  a  short  time  from  a  story 
and  a  half  to  four  stories  ;  its  capabilities  of  all  sorts 
being  proportionably  increased.  The  tavern  was 
equally  fortunate,  for  Mr  Mazard  had  undertaken 
its  erection  entirely  on  his  own  account,  as  a  matter 
of  speculation,  feeling,  he  said,  quite  certain  of  sell 
ing  it  for  double  its  cost  whenever  he  should  wish. 
The  plan  of  the  public  house  was  the  production  of 
his  teeming  brain,  and  exhibited  congenial  intrica 
cies  ;  while  the  windows  resembled  his  own  eyes  in 
being  placed  too  near  together,  and  looking  all  mari 
ner  of  ways.  Several  smaller  buildings  were  also 
in  progress,  and  for  all  these  workmen  at  a  high 
rate  of  wages  were  to  be  collected  and  provided  for. 

I  could  not  but  marvel  how  so  many  carpenters 
had  happened  to  *  locate'  within  a  few  miles  of  each 
other  in  this  favored  spot ;  but  I  have  since  learned 
that  a  plane,  a  chisel,  and  two  dollars  a  day  make  a 
carpenter  in  Michigan. 

Millwrights  too  are  remarkably  abundant;  but  1 
have  never  been  able  to  discover  any  essential  differ 
ence  between  them  and  the  carpenters,  except  that 
they  receive  three  dollars  per  diem,  which,  no  doubt, 
creates  a  distinction  in  time. 

Our  millwright  was  a  little  round-headed  fellow 
with  a  button  nose,  a  very  Adonis,  in  his  own  eyes, 
and  most  aptly  named  Puffer,  since  never  did  a 
more  consequential  dignitary  condescend  to  follow  a 


74 


A     NEW     HOME 


base  mechanical  calling.  His  statements,  when  he 
condescended  to  make  any,  were  always  given  with 
a  most  magisterial  air ;  and  no  suggestion,  however 
skilfully  insinuated  or  gently  offered,  was  ever  re 
ceived  without  an  air  of  insulted  dignity,  and  a 
reiteration  of  his  own  conviction  that  it  was  probable 
he  understood  his  business. 

It  is  to  be  ascribed  to  this  gentleman's  care  and 
accuracy  that  Mr  Clavers  has  since  had  the  satisfac 
tion  of  appearing  as  defendant  in  several  suits  at 
law,  brought  by  those  of  his  neighbors  whose  prop 
erty  had  been  doubled  in  value  by  the  erection  of 
the  mill,  and  who  therefore  thought  they  might  as 
well  see  what  else  they  could  get,  to  recover  the 
value  of  sundry  acres  of  wet  marsh  made  wetter  by 
the  flowing  back  of  the  pond,  while  Mr  Puffer's 
calculations  and  levels  prove  most  satisfactorily  (on 
paper)  that  the  pond  had  no  business  to  flow  back  so 
far,  and  that  therefore  malice  itself  could  ascribe  no 
fault  to  his  management. 

But  to  return.  Our  own  dwelling  was  to  be  built 
at  the  same  time  with  all  those  I  have  mentioned  ; 
and  materials  for  the  whole  were  to  be  brought  by 
land  carriage  from  two  to  thirty  miles.  To  my  in 
experienced  brain,  these  undertakings  seemed  noth 
ing  less  than  gigantic.  I  used  to  dream  of  the 
pyramids  of  Egypt,  and  the  great  wall  of  China, 
and  often  thought,  during  my  waking  hours,  of  the 
1  tower  on  Shinar's  plain,'  and  employed  myself 
in  conjectural  comparisons  between  the  confusion 
which  punished  the  projectors  of  that  edifice,  and 
the  difficulties  which  beset  the  builders  of  Montacute. 

'  No  brick  come  yet,  sir !     Dibble  couldn't  get  no 

white  wood  lumber  at  I ,  (thirty  miles  off,)  so 

he  stopt  and  got  what  lime  there  was  at  Jones's  ;  but 


F  0  L  L  0  "for  1  75 

they  hadn't  only  four  bushels,  and  they  wouldn't 
burn  again  till  week  after  next ;  and  that  'ere  sash 
that  came  from  — — —  is  all  of  three  inches  too 
large  for  the  window  frames  ;  and  them  doors  was 
made  of  such  green  stuff  that  they  won't  go  togeth 
er  no  how.' 

*  Well,  you  can  go  on  with  the  roof  surely  ! ' 

'Why,  so  we  could;  but  you  know,  sir,  oak- 
shingle  wouldn't  answer  for  the  mill,  and  there's  no 
pine-shingle  short  of  Detroit/ 

'  Can't  the  dwelling  house  be  raised  to-day  then  V 

'  Why,  we  calc'lated  to  raise  to-day,  sir  ;  but  that 
fellow  never  came  to  dig  the  cellar.5 

'  Go  on  with  the  blacksmith's  shop,  then,  since 
nothing  else  can  be  done.' 

'  Yes,  sir,  certainly.  Shall  we  take  that  best 
white  wood  siding  ?  for  you  know  the  oak  siding 
never  came  from  Tacker's  mill.' 

'  Send  Thomson  for  it,  then.1 

1  Well,  Thomson's  best  horse  is  so  lame  that  he 
can't  use  him  to-day,  and  the  other  is  a-drawin'  tim 
ber  for  the  dam.' 

1  Let  John  go  with  my  horses.' 

1  John's  wife's  sick,  and  he's  got  your  horses  and 
gone  for  the  doctor.' 

But  if  I  should  fill  pages  with  these  delays  and 
disappointments,  I  should  still  fail  to  give  any  idea 
of  the  real  vexations  of  an  attempt  to  build  on  any 
but  the  smallest  scale  in  a  new  country.  You  dis 
cover  a  thousand  requisites  that  you  had  never 
thought  of,  and  it  is  well  if  you  do  not  come  to  the 
angry  conclusion  that  every  body  is  in  league  against 
you  and  your  plans.  Perhaps  the  very  next  day 
after  you  have  by  extra  personal  exertion,  an  offer 
of  extra  price,  or  a  bonus  in  some  other  form,  sur- 


76  A     NEW     HOME, 

mounted  some  prodigious  obstacle,  you  walk  down 
to  survey  operations  with  a  comfortable  feeling  of 
self-gratulation,  and  find  yourself  in  complete  soli 
tude,  every  soul  having  gone  off*  to  election  or  town 
meeting,  JNo  matter  at  what  distance  these  impor 
tant  affairs  are  transacted,  so  fair  an  excuse  for  a 
ploy  can  never  pass  unimproved  ;  and  the  virtuous 
indignation  which  is  called  forth  by  any  attempt  at 
dissuading  one  of  the  sovereigns  from  exercising 
*  the  noblest  privilege  of  a  freeman,'  to  forward  your 
business  and  his  own,  is  most  amusingly  provoking. 

I  once  ventured  to  say,  in  my  feminine  capacity 
merely,  and  by  way  of  experiment,  to  a  man  whose 
family  I  knew  to  be  suffering  for  want  of  the  ordin 
ary  comforts  :— 

'  1  should  suppose  it  must  be  a  great  sacrifice  for 
you,  Mr  Fenwick,  to  spend  two  days  in  going  to 
election.' 

The  reply  was  given  with  the  air  of  Forrest's 
William  Tell,  and  in  a  tone  which  would  have  re 
joiced  Miss  Martineau's  heart, '  Yes,  to  be  sure  ;  but 
ought  not  a  man  to  do  his  duty  to  his  country  ?' 

This  was  unanswerable,  of  course.  I  hope  it 
consoled  poor  Mrs  Fenwick,  whose  tattered  gown 
would  have  been  handsomely  renewed  by  those  two 
days'  wages. 

As  may  be  conjectured  from  the  foregoing  slight 
sketch  of  our  various  thwartings  and  hindrances, 
the  neat  framed  house  which  had  been  pictured  on 
my  mind's  eye  so  minutely,  and  which  I  coveted 
with  such  enthusiasm,  was  not  built  in  a  month,  nor 
in  two,  nor  yet  in  three  ; — but  I  anticipate  again. 

The  circumstance  of  living  all  summer,  in  the 
same  apartment  with  a  cooking  fire,  I  had  never 
happened  to  see  alluded  to  in  any  of  the  elegant 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  77 

sketches  of  western  life  which  had  fallen  under  my 
notice.  It  was  not  until  I  actually  became  the  in 
mate  of  a  log  dwelling  in  the  wilds,  that  I  realized 
fully  what  c  living  all  in  one  room'  meant.  The 
sleeping  apparatus  for  the  children  and  the  sociable 
Angeline,  were  in  the  loft ;  but  my  own  bed,  with 
its  cunning  fence  of  curtains;  my  bureau,  with  its 
*  Alps  on  Alps'  of  boxes  and  books  ;  my  entire  cook 
ing  array  ;  my  centre- table,  which  bore,  sad  change  ! 
the  remains  of  to-day's  dinner,  and  the  preparations 
for  to-morrow,  all  covered  mysteriously  under  a  large 
cloth,  the  only  refuge  from  the  mice  :  these  and  ten 
thousand  other  things,  which  a  summer's  day  would 
not  suffice  me  to  enumerate,  cumbered  this  one  sin 
gle  apartment ;  and  to  crown  the  whole  was  the  in 
extinguishable  fire,  which  T  had  entirely  forgotten 
when  I  magnanimously  preferred  living  in  a  log- 
house,  to  remaining  in  Detroit  till  a  house  could  be 
erected.  I  had,  besides  the  works  to  which  I  have 
alluded,  dwelt  with  delight  on  Chateaubriand's  Ata- 
la,  where  no  such  vulgar  inconvenience  is  once  hint 
ed  at;  and  my  floating  visions  of  a  home  in  the 
woods  were  full  of  important  omissions,  and  always 
in  a  Floridian  clime,  where  fruits  serve  for.vivers. 

The  inexorable  dinner  hour,  which  is  passed  sub 
-silentio  in  imaginary  forests,  always  recurs,  in  real 
woods,  with  distressing  iteration,  once  in  twenty-four 
hours,  as  1  found  to  my  cost.  And  the  provoking 
people  for  whom  T  had  undertaken  to  provide,  seem 
ed  to  me  to  get  hungry  oftener  than  ever  before. 
There  was  no  end  to  the  bread  that  the  children  ate 
jfrom  morning  till  night — at  least  it  seemed  so;  while 
a  tin  reflector  was  my  only  oven,  and  the  fire  re 
quired  for  baking  drove  us  all  out  of  doors. 
8 


A     NEW     HOME, 


Washing  days,  proverbial  elsewhere  for  indescrib 
able  bettors,  were  our  times  of  jubilee.  Mrs  Jen- 
nino-s,  who  long  acted  as  my  factotum  on  these  oc 
casions,  always  performed  the  entire  operation,  al 
fresco,  by  the  side  of  the  creek,  with 

'  A  keltle  slung 
Between  two  poto,  upon  a  itick  transveiw.' 

I  feel  much  indebted  to  Cowper  for  having  given 
a  poetical  grace  to  the  arrangement.     '  1  he  shady 
shadow  of  an  umbrageous  tree'  (I  quote  from  an 
anonymous  author)  served  for  a  canopy,  and  there 
Ule   bony  dame   generally  made   a   pic-mc   meal, 
which  1  took  care  to  render  as  agreeable  as  possible 
by  sending  as  many  different  articles  as  the  bosket 
could  be  persuaded  to  receive,  each  contained  m  that 
characteristic  of  the  country,  a  pint  bowl. 

But,  oh!    the  ironing  days!      Memory   shrinks 
from  the  review.      Some  of  the  ordinary  household 
affaks  could  be  managed  by  the  aid  of  a  fire  made  on 
some  large  stones  at  a  little  distance  from  the  house ; 
and  this  did  very  well  when  the  wind  sat  ,n  the 
right  quarter  ;   which  it  did  not  always,  as  witness 
the  remains  of  the  pretty  pink  gingham  which  fell 
a  sacrifice  to  tuv  desire  for  an  afternoon  cup  of  cof 
fee      But  the  "ironing  and  the  baking  were  imperi 
ous  ;  and  my  fores.  Hecate,  who  seemed  at  times  to 
belon-  to  the  salamander  tribe,  always  made  as 
much  fire  as  the  stick-chimney,  with  its  crumbling 
cZ-lining,  would  possibly  bear.      She  often  suc- 
iceeded  in  bringing  to  a  white  heat  the  immense 

te£hpstra 

"he  Rocky  Mountains,  were  filled  with  burning  coals 
out  o  the  very  floor.  1  have  sometimes  suspected 
that  the  woman  loved  to  torment  me,  but  perhaps  I 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  79 

wrong  her.  She  was  used  to  it,  I  dare  say,  for  she/ 
looked  like  one  exsiccated  in  consequence  of  cease-] 
less  perspiration. 

When  the  day  declined,  and  its  business  was  laid 
aside,  it  was  our  practice  to  walk  to  and  fro  before 
the  door,  till  the  house  had  been  thoroughly  cooled 
by  the  night  air ;  and  these  promenades,  usually 
made  pleasant  by  long  talks  about  home,  and  laugh 
ing  conjectures  as  to  what  and would 

say  if  they  could  see  our  new  way  of  life,  were  fre 
quently  prolonged  to  a  late  hour.     And  to  this  most 
-  i^rjrujdjEUit  indulgence  we  could  not   but  trace  the 
agues  which  soon  prostrated  most  of  us. 

We  had,  to  be  sure,  been  warned  by  our  eastern 
friends  that  we  should  certainly  have  the  ague,  do 
what  we  might,  but  we  had  seen  so  many  persons 
who  had  been  settled  for  years  in  the  open  country, 
and  who  were  yet  in  perfect  health,  that  we  had 
learned  to  imagine  ourselves  secure.      I  am  still  of 
the  opinion  that  care  and  rational  _,_d jet  will  enable  • 
most  persons  to  avoid  this  terrible  disease ;  and  I  re 
cord  this  grave  medical  view  of  things  for  the  en 
couragement  and  instruction   of  such  of  my  city 
friends  as  may  hereafter  find  themselves  borne  west-  j 
ward  by  the  irresistible  current  of  affairs ;    trusting!  • 
that,  the  sad  fate  of  their  predecessors  will  deter  them;  > 

/  from  walking  in  the  open  air  till  ten  o'clock  at  night/'  ; 

i  without  hat  or  shawl. 


80  A      N  E  W     1-1  O  M  E, 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Down  with  the  topmast ;  yare ;  lower,  lower ;  bring  her  to  try  with  niafn- 
course.  TEMPEST. 

WHEN  Angelirie  left  me,  which  she  did  after  a 
few  days,  I  was  obliged  to  employ  Mrs  Jennings  to 
'  chore  round,'  to  borrow  her  own  expression  ;  and 
as  Mr  Clavers  was  absent  much  of  the  time,  I  had 
the  full  enjoyment  of  her  delectable  society  with  that 
of  her  husband  and  two  children,  who  often  came  to 
meals  very  sociably,  and  made  themselves  at  home 
with  small  urgency  on  my  part.  The  good  lady's 
habits  required  strong  green  tea  at  least  three  times 
a  day  ;  and  between  these  three  times  she  drank  the 
remains  of  the  tea  from  the  spout  of  the  tea-pot,  say 
ing  '  it  tasted  better  SD.'  l  If  she  hadn't  it,'  she  said, 
4  she  had  the  'sterics  so  that  she  wasn't  able  to  do  a 
chore.'  And  her  habits  were  equally  imperious  in 
the  matter  of  dipping  with  her  own  spoon  or  knife 
into  every  dish  on  the  table.  She  would  have  made 
out  nobly  on  kibaubs,  for  even  that  un wieldly  mor 
sel,  a  boiled  ham,  she  grasped  by  the  hock  and  cut 
ofTin  mouthfuls  with  her  knife,  deeliniixg  all  aid  from 
the  carver,  and  saying  coolly  that  she  made  out  very 
well.  It  was  in  vain  one  offered  her  any  thing,  she 
replied  invariably  with  a  dignified  nod  ;  'I'll  help 
myself,  I  thank  ye.  I  never  want  no  waitin  on.r 
And  this  reply  is  the  universal  one  on  such  occa 
sions,  as  I  have  since  had  vexatious  occasion  to  ob 
serve. 

Let  no  one  read  with  an  incredulous  shake  of  the 
head,  but  rather  let  my  sketch  of  these  peculiar 


FOLLOW?  81 

habits  of  my  neighbors  be  considered  as  a  mere  be 
ginning,  a  shadow  of  what  might  be  told.     I  might 

'  Amaze  indeed 
The  very  faculty  of  eyes  and  ears,' 

but  I  forbear. 

If  < grandeur  hear  with  a  disdainful  smile' — think 
ing  it  would  be  far  better  to  starve  than  to  eat  under 
such  circumstances,  I  can  only  say  such  was  not  my 
hjjngry  view  of  the  case  ;  and  that  1  often  found 
rather  amusing  exercise  for  my  ingenuity  in  contriv 
ing  excuses  and  plans  to  get  the  old  lady  to  enjoy  her 
meals  alone.  To  have  offered  her  outright  a  separ 
ate  table,  though  the  board  should  groan  with  all 
the  delicacies  of  the  city,  would  have  been  to  secure 
myself  the  ujienvlable._privilege  of  doing  my  own 
1  chores,'  at  least  till  1  could  procure  IT^Relp'  from 
some  distance  beyond  the  reach  of  my  Mend  Mrs 
Jennings's  tongue. 

It  did  not  require  a  very  long  residence  in  Michi 
gan,  to  convince  me  that  it  is  unwise  to  attempt  to 
stem  directly  the  current  of  society,  even  in  the  wil 
derness,  but  1  have  since  learned   many  ways  of 
wearing  round,  which  give  me  the  opportunity  of; 
living  very  much  after  my  own   fashion,  without! 
offending,  very  seriously,  any  body's  prejudices. 

No  settlers  are  so  uncomfortable  as  those  who, 
coming  with  abundant  means  as  they  suppose,  to 
be  comfortable,  set  out  with  a  determination  to  live 
as  they  have  been  accustomed  to  live.  They  soon 
find  that  there  are  places  where  the  '  almighty  dol 
lar'  is  almost  powerless  ;  or  rather  that,  powerful  as 
it  is,  it  meets  with  its  conqueror  in  the  jealous  pride 
of  those  whose  services  must  be  had  in  order  to  live 
at  all. 

8* 


82  A 

'  Luff  when  it  blows,'  is  a  wise  and  necessary 
caution.  Those  who  forget  it  and  attempt  to  cany 
all  sail  set  and  to  keep  an  unvarying  course,  blow 
which  way  it  will,  always  abuse  Michigan,  and  are- 
abused  in  their  turn.  Several  whom  we  have- 
known  to  set  out  with  this  capital  mistake  have 
absolutely  turned  about  again  in  despair,  revenging 
themselves  by  telling  very  hard  stories  about  us  nor- 
'  westers. 

Touchstone's  philosophy  is  your  only  wear  for 
this  meridian. 

'  Corin.     And  how  like  you  this  shepherd's  life,  Master  Touchstone? 

Touch.  Truly,  shepherd,  in  respect  of  itself  it  is  a  good  Mfe  ;  but  in  re-' 
»pect  it  is  a  shepherd's  life,  it  i?  naught.  In  respect  that  it  is  solitary,  I 
like  it  very  well  ;  but  in  respect  that  it  is  private,  it  is  a  very  vile  life. 
Now,  in  respect  that  it  is  in  the  fields,  it  pleaseth  me  well ;  but  in  respect 
it  is  not  in  the  court,  it  is  tedious.  As  it  is  a  spare  life,  look  you,  it  lit.* 
my  humor  well  ;  but  as  there  is  no  plenty  in  it,  it  goes  much  against  my 
stomach.  Hast  any  philosophy  in  thee,  shepherd  ?' 

Nobody  will  quarrel  with  this  view  of  things. 
You  may  say  any  thing  you  like  of  the  country  OF 
its  inhabitants :  but  beware  how  you  raise  a  suspi 
cion  that  you  despise  the  homely  habits  of  those 
i  around  you.  This  is  never  forgiven. 

It  would  be  iu  vain  !.o  prolcsid  that  this  state  of 
^society  can  ever  be  agreeable  to  those  who  have 
been  accustomed  to  the' more  rational  arrangements 
of  the  older  world.  The  social  character  of  meals, 
in  particular,  is  quite  destroyed ,  by  the  constant 
presence  of  strangers,  whose  manners,  habits  of 
thinking,  and  social  connexions  are  quite  different 
from  your  own,  and  often  exceedingly  repugnant  to 
your  taste.  Granting  the  correctness  of  the  opinion 
which  may  be  read  in  their  countenances  that  they 
are  '  as  good  as  you  are,'  I  must  insist,  that  a  greasy 
cook-maid,  or  a~reclolent  stable-boy,  can  never  be,  to 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  83 

my  thinking,  an  agreeable  table  companion — put-1 
ting  pride,  that  most  terrific  bug-bear  of  the  woods,! 
out  of  I  he  question. 

If  the  best  man  now  living  should  honor  my?? 
humble  roof  with  his  presence— if  he  should  happen^ 
to  have  an  unfortunate  penchant  for  eating  out  of 
the  dishes,  picking  his  teeth  with  his  fork,  or  using! 
the  fire-place  for  a  pocket  handkerchief,  I  would) 
prefer  he  should  take  his  dinner  solus  or  with  those? 
who  did  as  he  did, 

But,  I  repeat  it,  those  who  find  these  inconven-\ 
iences  most  annoying  while  all  is  new  and  strange  j 
to  them~wifl~by  the  exertion  of  a  little  patience  and 
ingenuity,  discover  ways  and  means  of  getting  aside 
of  what  is  most  unpleasant,  in  the  habits  of  their 
neighbors  :  and  the  silent  influence  of  example  is 
daily  effecting  much  towards  reformation  in  many : 
particulars.  Neatness,  propriety,  and  that  delicate, 
forbearance  of  the  least  encroachment  upon  the 
rights  or  the  enjoyments  of  others,  which  is  the  es 
sence  of  true  elegance  of  manner,  have  only  to  be 
seen  and  understood  to  be  admired  and  imitated  ; 
and  1  would  fain  persuade  those  who  are  groaning 
under  certain  inflictions  to  which  I  have  but  allud 
ed,  that  the  true  way  of  overcoming  all  the  evils  ofj 
which  they  complain  is  to  set  forth  in  their  own 
manners  and  habits,  all  that  is  kind,  forbearing, 
true,  lovely,  and  of  good  report.  They  will  find  ere 
long  that  their  neighbors  have  taste  enough  to  love 
what  is  so  charming,  even  though  they  see  it  exem 
plified  by  one  who  sits  all  day  in  a  carpeted  parlor, 
-  teaches  her  own  children  instead  of  sending  them  to 
the. district  school,  hates  'the  breath  of  garlic-eaters,' 
and— oh,  fell  climax ! — knows  nothing  at  all  of  soap- 
making. 


*+.<pr-  * 


->-?-\^    .      <x~"/-«   t{       f  <:_ 


. 

''    ;• 


84  A     NEW     HOME 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Honester  men  have  stretch'd  a  rope,  or  the  law  has  been  sadly  cheated.. 
But  this  unhappy  business  of  yours  ?  Can  nothing  be  done  ?  Let  me  see 
the  charge. 

He  took  the  papers,  and  as  he  read  them,  his  countenance  grew  hope 
lessly  dark  and  disconsolate. 

ANTIQUARY 

A  strange  fish !  Were  I  in  England  now,  and  had  but  this  fish  painted, 
not  a  holiday  fool  there  but  would  give  me  a  piece  of  silver. 

TEMPEST. 
Sorrow  chang'd  to  solace,  and  solace  mixed  will*  sorrow. 

THE   PASSIONATE  PILGRIM. 

SEVERAL  lots  had  already  been  purchased  in 
Montacute,  and  some  improvement  marked  each 
succeeding  day.  The  mill  had  grown  to  its  full 
stature,  the  dam  was  nearly  completed ;  the  tavern 
began  to  exhibit  promise  of  its  present  ugliness,  and 
all  seemed  prosperous  as  our  best  dreams,  when  cer 
tain  rumors  were  set  afloat  touching  the  solvency  of 
our  disinterested  friend  Mr  Mazard.  After  two  or 
three  days'  whispering,  a  tall  black-browed  man 
who  '  happened  in '  from  Gullsborough,  the  place 
which  had  for  some  time  been  honored  as  the  resi 
dence  of  the  Dousterswivel  of  Montacute,  stated 
boldly  that  Mr  Mazard  had  absconded ;  or,  in  West 
ern  language,  '  cleared.'  It  seemed  passing  strange 
that  he  should  run  away  from  the  large  house  which 
was  going  on  under  his  auspices  ;  the  materials  all 


FOLLOW,  » 

(on.tbe  ground  and  the  work  in  full  progress.  Still 
more  unaccountable  did  it  appear  to  us  that  his 
workmen  should  go  on  so  quietly,  without  so  much 
as  expressing  any  anxiety  about  their  pay. 

Mr  Clavers  had  just  been  telling  me  of  these 
things,  when  the  long  genius  above  mentioned  pre 
sented  himself  at  the  door  of  the  loggery.  His 
abord  was  a  singular  mixture  of  coarseness,  and  an 
attempt  at  being  civil ;  and  he  sat  for  some  minutes 
looking  round  and  asking  various  questions  before 
he  touched  the  main-spring  of  his  visit. 

At  length,  after  some  fumbling  in  his  pocket,  he 
produced  a  dingy  sheet  of  paper,  which  he  handed 
to  Mr  Olavers. 

'  There  ;  I  want  you  to  read  that,  and  tell  me 
what  you  think  of  it.' 

I  did  not  look  at  the  paper,  but  at  my  husband's 
face,  which  was  blank  enough.  He  walked  away 
with  the  tall  man,  '  and  I  saw  no  more  of  them  at 
that  time.' 

Mr  Clavers  did  not  return  until  late  in  the  even 
ing,  and  it  was  then  1  learned  that  Mr  Mazard  had 
been  getting  large  quantities  of  lumber  and  other 
materials  on  his  account,  and  as  his  agent ;  and 
that  the  money  which  had  been  placed  in  the 
agent's  hands,  for  the  purchase  of  certain  lands  to 
be  flowed  by  the  mill-pond,  hud  gone  into  govern 
ment  coffers  in  payment  for  sundry  eighty-acre  lots, 
which  were  intended  for  his,  Mr  Mazard's,  private 
behoof  and  benefit.  These  items  present  but  a  sam 
ple  of  our  amiable  friend's  trifling  mistakes.  I  will 
not  fatigue  the  reader  by  dwelling  on  the  subject. 
The  results  of  all  this  were  most  unpleasant  to  us. 
Mr  Clavers  found  himself  involved  to  a  large  amount; 
and  his  only  remedy  seemed  to  be  to  prosecute  Mr 


86  ASTEWIIOMEr 

Mazard.  A  consultation  with  his  lawyer,  however,, 
convinced  him,  that  even  by  this  most  disagreeable 
mode,  redress  was  out  of  the  question^  since  he  had 
through  inadvertence  rendered  himself  liable  for 
whatever  that  gentleman  chose  to  buy  or  engage  in 
his  name.  All  that  could  be  done,  was  to  get  out 
of  the  affair  with  as  little  loss  as  possible,  and  to  take 
warning  against  land-sharks  in  future. 

An  immediate  journey  to  Detroit  became  neces 
sary,  and  I  was  once. more  left  alone,  and  in  no 
overflowing  spirits.  I  sat, 

'  Revolving  in  my  altered  soul 
The  various  turns  of  fate  below,' 

when  a  tall  damsel,  of  perhaps  twenty-eight  or 
thirty,  came  in  to  make  a  visit.  She  was  tastefully 
attired  in  a  blue  gingham  dress,  with  broad  cuffs  of 
black  morocco,  and  a  black  cambric  apron  edged 
with  orange  worsted  lace.  Her  oily  black  locks- 
were  cut  quite  short  round  the  ears,  and  confined  close 
to  her  head  by  a  black  ribbon,  from  one  side  of  which 
depended,  almost  in  her  eye,  two  very  long  tassels 
of  black  silk,  intended  to  do  duty  as  curls.  Prunelle 
slippers  with  high  heels,  and  a  cotton  handkerchief 
tied  under  the  chin,  finished  the  costume,  which  I 
have  been  thus  particular  in  describing,  because  I 
have  observed  so  many  that  were  nearly  similar. 

The  lady  greeted  me  in  the  usual  style,  with  a 
familiar  nod,  and  seated  herself  at  once  in  a  chair 
near  the  door. 

'  Well,  how  do  like  Michigan  ?' 

This  question  received  the  most  polite  answer 
which  my  conscience  afforded  ;  and  1  asked  the 
lady  in  my  turn,  if  she  wras  one  of  my  neighbors? 

*  Why,  massy,  yes  ! '  she  replied  ;  '  don't  you 
know  me?  I  tho't  every  body  know'd  me.  Why> 


WHO^LL     FOLLOW?  87 

I'm  the  school  ma'am,  Simeon  Jenkins's  sister,  Cleo- 
ry  Jenkins.' 

Thus  introduced,  I  put  all  my  civility  in  requisi 
tion  to  entertain  my  guest,  but  she  seemed  quite 
independent,  finding  amusement  for  herself,  and 
asking  questions  on  every  possible  theme. 

'  YouVe  doing  your  own  work  nowr,  a'n't  ye  ?? 

This  might  not  be  denied ;  and  I  asked  if  she  did 
not  know  of  a  girl  whom  I  might  be  likely  to  get. 

'  Well,  I  don't  know,  I'm  looking  for  a  place 
where  I  can  board  and  do  chores  myself.  I  have 
a  good  deal  of  time  before  school,  and  after  I  get 
back  ;  and  I  didn't  know  but  I  might  suit  ye  for  a 
while.' 

1  was  pondering  on  this  proffer,  when  the  sallow 
damsel  arose  from  her  seat,  took  a  short  pipe  from 
her  bosom,  (not  '  Pan's  reedy  pipe,'  reader,)  filled  it 
with  tobacco,  which  she  carried  in  her  '  work  pock 
et,'  and  reseating  herself,  began  to  smoke  with  the 
greatest  gusto,  turning  ever  and  anon  to  spit  at  the 
hearth. 

Incredible  again  ?  alas,  would  it  W7ere  not  true  ! 
I  have  since  known  a  girl  of  seventeen,  who  was 
attending  a  neighbor's  sick  infant,  smoke  the  live 
long  day,  and  take  snuff  besides  ;  and  I  can  vouch 
for  it,  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  married  women 
in  the  interior  of  Michigan  use  tobacco  in  some  form, 
usually  that  of  the  odious  pipe. 

I  took  the  earliest  decent  opportunity  to  decline 
the  offered  help,  telling  the  school-ma'am  plainly, 
that  an  inmate  who  smoked  would  make  the  house 
uncomfortable  to  me. 

'  Why,  law  ! '  said  she,  laughing  ;  *  that's  nothing 
but  pride  now :  folks  is  often  too  proud  to  take  corn- 


881  ANEWHOME^ 

fort.  For  my  part,  I  couldn't  do  without  my  pipe  to> 
please  nobody.' 

Mr  Simeon  Jenkins,  the  brother  of  this  indepen 
dent  young  lady,  now  made  his  appearance  on- 
some  trifling  errand ;  and  his  sister  repeated  to  him 
what  I  had  said. 

Mr  Jenkins  took  his  inch  of  cigar  from  his  mouthr 
and  asked  if  I  really  disliked  tobacco  smoke,  seem 
ing  to  think  it  scarcely  possible. 

'  Don't  your  old  man  smoke  ?'  said  he, 

'  No,  indeed,'  said  I,  with  more  than  my  usual 
energy  ;  i  I  should  hope  he  never  would.' 

:  Well,'  said  neighbor  Jenkinsr  '  I  tell  you  whatr 
I'm  boss  at  home  ;  and  if  my  old  woman  was  to- 
stick  up  that  fashion,  I'd  keep  the  house  so  blue  she 
couldn't  see  to  snuff  the  candle.' 

His  sister  laughed  long  and  loud  at  this  sally, 
which  was  uttered  rather  angrily,  and  with  an  air 
of  most  manfuL bravery  ;  and  Mr  Jenkins,  picking, 
up  his  end  of  cigar  from  the  floor,  walked  off  with 
an  air  evidently  intended  to  be  as  expressive  as  the 
celebrated  and  oft-quoted  nod  of  Lord  Burleigh  in 
the  Critic. 

Miss  Jenkins  was  still  arguing  on  the  subject  of 
her  pipe,  when  a  gentleman  approached,  whose* 
dress  and  manner  told  me  that  he  did  not  belong  to* 
our  neighborhood.  He  was  a  red-faced,  jolly-look 
ing  person,  evidently  *  well  to  do  in  the  world,'  and 
sufficiently  consequential  for  any  meridian.  He 
seated  himself  quite  unceremoniously — for  who  feels 
ceremony  in  a  log  house  I — said  he  understood  Mr 
Clavers  was  absent — then  hesitated  ;  and,  as  Miss 
Jenkins  afterwards  observed,  '  hummed  and  hawed/ 
and  seemed  as  if  he  would  fain  say  something,  bufc 
scarce  knew  how. 


FOLLOW? 


89 


At  length  Miss  Cleora  took  the  hint — a  most  ne 
cessary  point  of  delicacy,  where  there  is  no  with 
drawing  room.  She  gave  her  parting  nod,  and 
disappeared  ;  and  the  old  gentleman  proceeded. 

He  had  come  to  Montacute  with  the  view  of  set 
tling  his  son,  l  a  wild  chap.'  he  said,  a  lawyer  hy 
profession,  and  not  very  fond  of  work  of  any  sort ; 
but  as  he  himself  had  a  good  deal  of  land  in  the 
vicinity,  he  thought  his  son  might  find  employment 
in  attending1  to  it,  adding  such  professional  business 
as  might  occur. 

'  But  what  I  wished  particularly  to  say,  my  dear 
madam,'  said  he,  '  regards  rather  my  son's  wife  than 
himself.  She  is  a  charming  girl,  and  accustomed 
to  much  indulgence ;  and  I  have  felt  afraid  that  a 
removal  to  a  place  so  new  as  this  might  be  too  try 
ing  to  her.  I  knew  you  must  be  well  able  to  judge 
of  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered  here,  and  took 
the  liberty  of  calling  on  that  account.' 

I  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  idea  of  having  a 
neighbor,  whose  habits  might  in  some  respects  ac 
cord  with  my  own,  that  1  fear  I  was  scarcely  impar 
tial  in  the  view  which  I  gave  Mr  Rivers,  of  the 
possibilities  of  Montacute.     At  least,  I  communicat 
ed  only  such  as  rises  before   my  own   mind,  while 
watching  perhaps  a  glorious  sunset  reflected  in   the 
glassy  pond;    my  hyacinths  in  all  their  glory;    the 
evening  breeze  beginning  to  sigh  in  the  tree  tops  ; 
the  children  just  coming  in  after  a  fine  frolic  with 
D'Orsay  on  the  grass ;  and  Papa  and  Prince  return-  f ' 
ing  up  the  lane.     At  such  times,  I  always  conclude! 
that  Montacute  is,  after  all,  a  dear  little  world  ;   and/ 
I  am  piobably  quite  as  near  the  truth,  as  when,       / 


iome  cold  rainy  day, 


When  the  birds  cannot  show  u  drj  feather 


90 


A     NEW     HOME 


when  Arthur  comes  in  with  a  pound  of  mud  on 
each  foot,  D'Orsay  at  his  heels,  bringing  in  as  much 
more ;  little  Bell  crying  to  go  out  to  play  ;  Charlie 
prodigiously  fretful  with  his  prospective  tooth  ;  and 
some  gaunt  marauder  from  'up  north,'  or  'out  west/ 
sits  talking  on  '  bisness,'  and  covering  my  andirons 
with  tobacco  juice ;  1  determine  sagely,  that  a  life  in 
the  woods  is  worse  than  no  life  at  all.  One  view  is,  I 
insist,  as  good  as  the  other  ;  but  I  told  Mr  Rivers  he 
must  make  due  allowance  for  my  desire  to  have  his 
fair  daughter-in-law  for  a  neighbor,  with  which  he 
departed  ;  and  I  felt  that  my  gloom  had  essentially 
lightened  in  consequence  of  his  visit. 


FOLLOW?  91 


CHAPTER  XVL 

Art  thou  so  confident .'  within  what  space 
Hop'st  thou  my  cure  ? 

ALL'S    WELL   THAT    ENDS    WELL. 

MR  CLAVERS  at  length  returned  ;  and  the  pro 
gress  of  the  village,  though  materially  retarded  by 
the  obliquities  of  Mr  Mazard's  course,  was  still  not 
entirely  at  a  stand.  If  our  own  operations  were 
slow  and  doubtful,  there  were  others  whose  building 
and  improving  went  on  at  a  rapid  rate  !  and  before 
the  close  of  summer,  several  small  tenements  were 
enclosed  and  rendered  in  some  sort  habitable.  A 
store  and  a  public  house  were  to  be  ready  for  busi 
ness  in  a  very  short  time. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  early  in  the  month 
of  September,  a  visit  from  a  young  city  friend,  a 
charming  lively  girl,  who  unaffectedly  enjoyed  the 
pleasures  of  the  country,  and  whose  taste  for  long 
walks  and  rides  was  insatiable.  I  curtained  off  with 
the  unfailing  cotton  sheets  a  snow-white  bower  for 
her  in  the  loft,  and  spread  a  piece  of  carpeting,  a 
relic  of  former  magificence,  over  the  loose  boards 
that  served  for  a  floor.  The  foot  square  window 
was  shaded  by  a  pink  curtain,  and  a  bedside  chair 
and  a  candlestand  completed  a  sleeping  apartment 
which  she  declared  was  perfectly  delightful. 


92  A      NEW      HOME, 

So  smoothly  flowed  our  days  during  that  charm 
ing  visit  that  I  had  begun  to  fear  my  fair  guest 
would  be  obliged  to  return  to  —  -  without  a 
single  adventure  worth  telling,  when  one  morning 
as  we  sat  sewing,  Arthur  ran  in  with  a  prodigious 
snake  story,  to  which,  though  we  were  at  first  dis 
posed  to  pay  no  attention,  \ve  were  at  length  obliged 
to  listen. 

1 A  most  beautiful  snake,'  he  declared,  '  was  com 
ing  up  to  the  back  door.' 

To  the  back  door  we  ran  ;  and  there,  to  be  sure, 
was  a  large  rattle-snake,  or  massasauga,  lazily 
winding  its  course  towards  the  house,  Alice  stand 
ing  still  to  admire  it,  too  ignorant  to  fear. 

My  young  friend  snatched  up  a  long  switch, 
whose  ordinary  office  was  to  warn  the  chickens 
from  the  dinner-table,  and  struck  at  the  reptile, 
which  was  not  three  feet  from  the  door.  It  reared 
its  head  at  once,  made  several  attempt  to  strike,  or 
spring,  as  it  is  called  here,  though  it  never  really 
springs.  Fanny  continued  to  strike  ;  and  at  length 
the  snake  turned  for  flight,  not  however  without  a 
battle  of  at  least  two  minutes. 

'  Here's  the  axe,  cousin  Fanny,'  said  Arthur, 
4  don't  let  him  run  away  ! '  and  while  poor  I  stood 
in  silent  terror,  the  brave  girl  followed,  struck  once 
ineffectually,  and  with  another  blow  divided  the 
snake,  whose  writhings  turned  to  the  sun  as  many 
hues  as  the  windings  of  Broadway  on  a  spring 
morning — and  Fanny  was  a  heroine. 

It  is  my  opinion  that  next  to  having  a  cougar 
spring  at  one,  the  absolute  killing  of  a  rattle-snake 
is  peculiarly  appropriate  to  constitute  a  Michigan 
heroine ; — and  the  cream  of  my  snake  story  is,  that 
it  might  be  sworn  to,  chapter  and  verse,  before  the 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  93 

nearest  justice.      What   cougar   story  can   say  as 
much  ? 

But  the  nobler  part  of  the  snake  ran  away  with 
far  more  celerity  than  it  had  displayed  while  it 
1  could  a  tail  unfold,'  and  we  exalted  the  coda  to  a 
high  station  on  the  logs  at  the  corner  of  the  house — 
for  fear  none  of  the  scornful  sex  would  credit  our 
prowess. 

That  snake  absolutely  haunted  us  for  a  day  or 
two ;  we  felt  sure  that  there  were  more  near  the 
house,  and  our  ten  days  of  happiness  seemed  cut 
short  like  those  of  Seged,  and  by  a  cause  not  very 
dissimilar.  But  the  gloom  consequent  upon  confin 
ing  ourselves,  children  and  all,  to  the  house,  in  deli 
cious  weather,  was  too  much  for  our  prudence  ;  and 
we  soon  began  to  venture  out  a  little,  warily  inspect 
ing  every  nook,  and  harassing  the  poor  children  with 
incessant  cautions. 

We  had  been  watching  the  wheelings  and  flit- 
tings  of  a  flock  of  prairie  hens,  which  had  alighted 
in  Mr  Jenkins'  corn-field,  turning  ever  and  anon  a 
delighted  glance  westward  at  the  masses  of  purple 
and  crimson  which  make  sunset  so  splendid  in  the 
region  of  the  great  lakes.  I  felt  the  dew,  and  warn 
ing  all  my  companions,  stepped  into  the  house.  I 
had  reached  the  middle  of  the  room,  when  I  trod  full 
upon  something  soft,  which  eluded  my  foot.  I 
shrieked  '  a  snake  !  a  snake  ! '  and  fell  senseless  on 
the  floor. 

When  I  recovered  myself  I  was  on  the  bed,  and 
well  sprinkled  with  camphor,  that  never  failing  spe 
cific  in  the  woods. 

'  Where  is  it? '  said  I,  as  soon  as  1  could  utter  a 
word.     There  was  a  general  smile.     (  Why,  mam- 
9* 


94  A     N  E  W     H  O  M  E  , 

ma,'  said  Alice,  who  was  exalted  to  a  place  on  llie 
bed,  '  don't  you  recollect  that  great  load  that  always 
sits  behind  the  flour-barrel  in  the  corner?' 

I  did  not  repent  my  fainting,  though  it  was  not  a 
snake,  for  if  there  ia  anything  besides  a  snake  that 
curdles  the  blood  in  my  veins  it  is  a  toad.  The 
harmless  wretch  was  carried  to  a  great  distance 
from  the  house,  but  the  next  morning,  there  it  sat 
again  in  the  corner  catching  flies.  1  have  been  told 
by  some  persons  here  that  they  'liked  to  have  toads 
in  the  room  in  fly  time.'  Truly  it  may  be  said, 
'  What's  one  man's  meat  -  -  '  Shade  of  Chester 
field,  forgive  me  ! — but  that  anybody  can  be  willing 
to  live  with  a  toad  !  To  my  thinking  nothing  but 
a  toady  can  bo  more  odious. 

The  next  morning  1  awoke  with  a  severe  head 
ache,  and  racking  pains  in  every  bone.  Dame  Jen 
nings  said  it  was  the  '  agur?  I  insisted  that  it  could 
be  nothing  but  the  toad.  The  fair  Fanny  was  oblig 
ed  to  leave  us  this  day,  or  lose  her  escort  home — a 
thing  not  to  be  risked  in  the  wilderness.  I  thought 
I  should  get  up  to  dinner,  and  in  that  hope  bade  her 
a  gay  farewell,  with  a  charge  to  make  the  mobt  of  the 
snake  story  for  the  honor  of  the  woods. 

I  did  not  get  up  to  dinner,  for  the  simple  reason 
that  I  could  not  stand — and  Mrs  Jennings  consoled 
me  by  telling  me  every  ten  minutes,  '  Why,  you've 
got  th'  agur  !  woman  alive  !  Why,  I  know  the 
fever-agur  as  well  as  I  know  beans  !  It  aVt  noth 
ing  else  ! ' 

But  no  chills  came.  My  pains  and  rny  fever  be 
came  intense,  and  I  knew  but  little  about  it  after 
the  fir^t  day,  for  there  was  an  indistinctness  about 
my  perceptions,  which  almost,  although  not  quite, 
amounted  to  delirium. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  95 

A  physician  was  sent  for,  and  we  expected,  of 
course,  some  village  Galen,  who  knew  just  enough 
to  bleed  and  blister,  for  all  mortal  ills.  No  such 
thing  !  A  man  of  first-rate  education,  who  had 
walked  European  hospitals,  and  who  had  mother- 
wit  in  abundance  to  enable  him  to  profit  by  his  ad 
vantages.  It  is  surprising  how  many  such  people 
one  meets  in  Michigan.  Some,  indeed,  we  have 
been  led  to  suppose,  from  some  traits  in  their  Ameri 
can  history,  might  have  'left  their  country  for  their 
country's  good : ' — others  appear  to  have  forsaken 
the  old  world,  either  in  consequence  of  some  tempo 
rary  disgust,  or  through  romantic  notions  of  the  lib 
erty  to  be  enjoyed  in  this  favored  land.  I  can  at 
this  moment  call  to  mind  several  among  our  ten- 
mile  neighbors,  who  can  boast  university  honors, 
either  European  or  American,  and  who  are  reading 
men,  even  now.  Yet  one  might  pass  any  one  of 
these  gentlemen  in  the  road  without  distinguishing 
between  him  and  the  Corydon  who  curries  his 
horses,  so  complete  is  their  outward  transformation. 

Our  medical  friend  treated  me  very  judiciously  ; 
and  by  his  skill,  the  severe  attack  of  rheumatic 
fever,  which  my  sunset  and  evening  imprudences 
had  been  kindling  in  my  veins,  subsided  after  a 
week,  into  a  daily  ague ;  out  Mrs  Jennings  was  not 
there  to  exult  in  this  proof  of  her  sagacity.  She 
had  been  called  away  to  visit  a  daughter,  who  had 
been  taken  ill  at  a  distance  from  home,  and  I  was 
left  without  a  nurse. 

My  neighbors  showed  but  little  sympathy  on  the 
occasion.  They  had  imbibed  the  idea  that  we  held 
ourselves  above  them,  and  chose  to  take  it  for  grant 
ed,  that  we  did  not  need  their  aid.  There  were  a 
good  many  cases  of  ague  too,  and,  of  course,  people 


96  A     NEW     HOME, 

had  their  own  troubles  to  attend  to.  The  result 
was,  that  we  were  in  a  sad  case  enough.  O,  for 
one  of  those  feminine  men,  who  can  make  good 
gruel,  and  wash  the  children's  faces  !  Mr  Clavers 
certainly  did  his  best,  and  who  can  more?  But  the 
hot  side  of  the  bowl  always  would  come  to  his  fin 
gers—and  the  sauce-pan  would  overset,  let  him 
balance  it  ever  so  nicely.  And  then — such  hungry 
children  !  They  wanted  to  eat  all  the  time.  After 
a"  day's  efforts,  he  began  to  complain  that  stooping 
over  the  fire  made  him  very  dizzy.  I  was  quite 
self-absorbed,  or  I  should  have  noticed  such  a  com 
plaint  from  one  who  makes  none  without,  cause  * 
but  the  matter  went  on,  until,  when  I  asked  for  my 
gruel,  he  had  very  nearly  fallen  on  the  coals,  in 
the  attempt  to  take  it  from  the  fire.  He  staggered 
to  the  bed,  and  was  unable  to  sit  up  for  many  days 
after. 
,  When  matters  reached  this  pitch — when  we  had, 

/literally,  no  one  to  prepare  food,  or  look  after  the 
children — little  Bell  added  to  the  sick  list  too — our 
physician  proved  our  good  genius.  He  procured  a 
nurse  from  a  considerable  distance  ;  and  it  was 
through  his  means  that  good  Mrs  Danforth  heard 
of  our  sad  condition,  and  sent  us  a  maiden  of  all- 
work,  who  materially  amended  the  aspect  of  our 

\  domestic  affairs. 

Our  agues  were  tremendous.  I  used  to  think  I 
should  certainly  die  in  my  ten  or  twelve  hours'  fever 
— and  Mr  Clavers  confidently  asserted,  several  times, 
that  the  upper  half  of  his  head  was  taking  leave  of 
the  lower.  But  the  event  proved  that  we  were  both 
mistaken  ;  for  our  physician  verified  his  own  asser 
tion,  that  an  ague  was  as  easily  managed  as  a  com 
mon  cold,  by  curing  us  both  in  a  short  time  after 


W  H  O     L  L     FO L  L  O  W  /  I 

•our  illness  had  assumed  the  intermittent  form.  \ 
There  is,  however,  one  important  distinction  to  be 
observed  between  a  cold  and  the  ague — the  former 
does  not  recur  after  every  trifling  exertion,  as  the 
latter  is  sure  to  do.  Again  and  again,  after  we 
seemed  entirely  cured,  did  the  insidious  enemy  re 
new  his  attacks.  A  short  ride,  a  walk,  a  drive  of 
two  or  three  miles,  and  we  were  prostrated  for  a 
week  or  two.  Even  a  slight  alarm,  or  any  thing 
that  occasioned  an  unpleasant  surprise,  would  be 
followed  by  a  chill  and  fever. 

These  things  are,  it  must  be  conceded,  very  dis 
couraging.  One  learns  to  feel  as  if  the  climate  must  j 
be  a  wretched  one,  and  it  is  not  till  after  these  first 
clouds  have  blown  over,  that  we  have  resolution  to 
look  around  us — to  estimate  the  sunny  skies  of 
Michigan,  and  the  ruddy  countenances  of  its  older 
inhabitants  as  they  deserve. 

The  people  are  obstinately  attached  to  some  su- 
perstitious  notions  respecting  agues.  They  hold 
that  it  is  unlucky  to  break  them.  '  You  should  let 
them  run  on,'  say  they,  l  till  they  wear  themselves 
out.'  This  has  probably  arisen  from  some  impru 
dent  use  of  quinine,  (or  ' Queen  Ann,')  and  other 
powerful  tonics,  which  are  often  taken  before  the 
system  is  properly  prepared.  There  is  also  much 
prejudice  against  '  Doctor's  physic  ; '  while  lobelia, 
and  other  poisonous  plants,  which  happen  to  grow 
wild  in  the  woods,  are  used  \vith  the  most  reckless 
rashness.  The  opinion  that  each  region  produces 
the  medicines  which  its  own  diseases  require,  pre 
vails  extensively, —  a  notion  which,  though  perhaps 
theoretically  correct  to  a  certain  extent,  is  a  most 
dangerous  one  for  the  ignorant  to  practise  upon. 

These  agues  are,  as  yet,  the  only  diseases  of  the 


98  A     NEW     HOME, 

country.  Consumption  is  almost  unknown  as  a 
Michigan  evil.  Indeed  many,  who  have  been  in 
duced  to  forsake  the  sea-board  by  reason  of  too  sen 
sitive  lungs,  find  themselves  renovated  after  a  year 
in  the  Peninsula.  Our  sickly  season,  from  August 
till  October,  passed  over  without  a  single  death  with 
in  our  knowledge. 

To  be  sure,  a  neighbor  told  me,  not  long  ago,  that 
her  old  man  had  a  complaint  of  '  the  lights,'  and 
that  '  to  try  to  work  any,  gits  his  lights  all  up  in  a 
heap.'  But  as  this  is  a  disease  beyond  the  bounds 
of  my  medical  knowledge,  I  can  only  'say  the  tale 
as't  was  said  to  me,'  hoping  that  none  of  my  emi 
grating  friends  may  find  it  contagious : — any  dis 
ease  which  is  brought  on  by  working,  being  cer 
tainly  much  to  be  dreaded  in  this  Western  country  I 


WHO  LL    FOLLOW?  99 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

'The  house's  form  within  was  rude  and  strong, 
Like  an  huge  cave  hewn  out  of  rocky  clift  ; 
From  whose  rough  vault  the  ragged  breaches  hung: — 

******* 
And  over  them  Arachne  high  did  lift 

Her  cunning  weh,  and  spread  her  subtle  net, 
Enwrapped  in  foul  smoke,  and  clouds  more  black  than  jet. 

FAERY  Q,UEE«T. 

It  were  good  that  men,  in  their  innovations,  would  follow  the  example 
•of  time  itself,  which  indeed  innovateth  greatly,  but  quietly,  and  by  degrees 
scarce  to  be  perceived.  BACON. 

IT  was  on  one  of  our  superlatively  doleful  ague 
days,  when  a  cold  drizzling  rain  had  sent  mildew 
into  our  unfortunate  bones ;  arid  I  lay  in  bed,  burn 
ing  with  fever,  while  my  stronger  half  sat  by  the 
fire,  taking  his  chill  with  his  great-coat,  hat,  and 
boots  on,  that  Mr  Rivers  came  to  introduce  his 
young  daughter-in-law,  I  shall  never  forget  the 
utterly  disconsolate  air,  which,  in  spite  of  the  fair 
lady's  politeness,  would  make  itself  visible  in  the 
pauses  of  our  conversation.  She  did  try  not  to  cast 
a  curious  glance  round  the  room.  She  fixed  her 
eyes  on  the  fire-place — but  there  were  the  clay-filled 
sticks,  instead  of  a  chimney-piece — the  half-consum 
ed  wooden  crane,  which  had,  more  than  once,  let 
our  dinner  fall — the  Rocky-Mountain  hearth,  and 
the  reflector  baking  biscuits  for  tea — so  she  thought 
it  hardly  polite  to  appear  to  dwell  too  long  there. 
She  turned  towards  the  window  :  there  were  the 
shelves,  with  our  remaining  crockery,  a  grotesque 
assortment !  and,  just  beneath,  the  unnameable  iron 
and  tin  affairs,  that  are  reckoned  among  the  indis- 


100  A     NEW     HOME, 

pensables,  even  of  the  half-civilized  state.  She  tried 
the  other  side,  but  there  was  the  ladder,  the  flour- 
barrel,  and  a  host  of  other  things — rather  odd  parlor 
furniture — and  she  cast  her  eyes  on  the  floor,  with 
its  gaping  cracks,  wide  enough  to  admit  a  massa- 
sauga  from  below,  and  its  inequalities,  which  might 
trip  any  but  a  sylph.  The  poor  thing  looked  abso 
lutely  confounded,  and  I  exerted  all  the  energy  my 
fever  had  left  me.  to  try  to  say  something  a  little 
encouraging. 

'  Come  to-morrow  morning,  Mrs  Rivers,'  said  I, 
6  and  you  shall  see  the  aspect  of  things  quite  chang 
ed  ;  and  1  shall  he  able  to  tell  you  a  great  deal  in 
favor  of  this  wild  life.' 

She  smiled  faintly,  and  tried  not  to  look  miser- 
,  able,  but  I  saw  plainly  that  she  was  sadly  depressed, 
and  I  could  not  feel  surprised  that  she  should  be  so. 
Mr  Rivers  spoke  very  kindly  to  her,  and  filled  up  all 
\  the  pauses  in  our  forced  talk  with  such  cheering  ob 
servations  as  he  could  muster. 

He  had  found  lodgings,  he  said,  in  a  farm-house, 
not  far  from  us,  and  his  son's  house  would,  ere  long? 
be  completed,  when  we  should  be  quite  near  neigh 
bors. 

I  saw  tears  swelling  in  the  poor  girl's  eyes,  as  she 
took  leave,  and  I  longed  to  be  well  for  her  sake.  In 
this  newly-formed  world,  the  earlier  settler  has  a 
feeling  of  hostess-ship  toward  the  new  comer.  I 
speak  only  of  women — men  look  upon  each  one, 
newly  arrived,  merely  as  an  additional  business- 
automaton — a  somebody  more  with  whom  to  try 
the  race  of  enterprise,  i.  e.  money-making. 

The  next  day  Mrs  Rivers  came  again,  and  this 
time  her  husband  was  with  her.  Then  I  saw  at  a 
glance  why  it  was  that  life  in  the  wilderness  looked 
so  peculiarly  gloomy  to  her.  Her  husband's  face 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  101 

showed  but  too  plainly  the  marks  of  early  excess  ; 
and  there  was  at  intervals,  in  spite  of  an  evident 
effort  to  play  the  agreeable,  an  appearance  of  ab 
sence,  of  indifference,  which  spoke  volumes  of  do 
mestic  history.  He  made  innumerable  inquiries 
touching  the  hunting  and  fishing  facilities  of  the 
country  around  us,  expressed  himself  enthusiastical 
ly  fond  of  those  sports,  and  said  the  country  was  a 
living  death  without  them,  regretting  much  that  Mr 
Clavers  was  not  of  the  same  mind. 

Meanwhile  1  had  begun  to  take  quite  an  interest 
In  his  little  wife.  I  found  that  she  was  as  fond  of 
novels  and  poetry,  as  her  husband  was  of  field-sports. 
Some  of  her  flights  of  sentiment  went  quite  beyond 
my  sobered -down  views.  But  I  saw  we  should  get 
on  admirably,  and  so  we  have  done  ever  since.  I 
did  not  mistake  that  plejisant^smile,  and  that  soft 
sweet  voice..  They  are  even  now  as  attractive  as 
ever.  ~And  I  had  a  neighbor. 

Before  the  winter  had  quite  set  in,  our  little  nest 
was  finished,  or  as  nearly  finished  as  any  thing  in 
Michigan  ;  and  Mr  and  Mis  Rivets  took  possession 
of  their  new  dwelling,  on  the  very  same  day  that 
we  smiled  our  adieux  to  the  loggery. 

Our  new  house  was  merely  the  beginning  of  a 
house,  intended  for  the  reception  of  a  front-building, 
Yankee  fashion,  whenever  the  owner  should  be 
able  to  enlarge  his  borders.  But  the  contrast  with 
our  sometime  dwelling,  made  even  this  humble  cot 
seem  absolutely  sumptuous.  The  children  could  do- 
nothing  but  admire  the  conveniences  it  afforded. 
Robinson  Crusoe  exulted  not  more  warmly  in  his 
successive  acquisitions  than  did  Alice  in  'a  kitchen, 
a  real  kitchen  !  and  a  pantry  to  put  the  dishes  ! ' 
10 


102  A     NEW     HOME, 

':  while  Arthur  found  much  to  praise  in  the  wee  bed 
room  which  was  alloted  as  his  sanctum  in  the  '  hicy 
haec,  hoc '  hours.  Mrs  Rivers,  who  was  fresh  from 
the  '  settlements,'  often  curled  her  pretty  little  lip  at 
the  deficiencies  in  her  little  mansion,  but  we  had 
learned  to  prize  any  thing  which  was  even  a  shade 
above  the  wigwam,  and  dreamed  riot  of  two  parlors 
or  a  piazza. 

Other  families  removed  to  Montacute  in  the  course 
of  the  winter.  Our  visiting  list  was  considerably  en 
larged,  and  I  used  all  my  influence  with  Mrs  Rivera 
to  persuade  her  that  her  true  happiness  lay  in  mak 
ing  friends  of  her  neighbors.  She  was  very  shy, 
easily  shocked  by  those  sins  against  Chesterfield, 
which  one  encounters  here  at  every  turn,  did  not 
conceal  her  fatigue  when  a  neighbor  happened  in 
after  breakfast  to  make  a  three  hours7  call,  forgot  to 
ask  those  who  came  at  one  o'clock  to  take  off  their 
things  and  stay  to  tea,  even  though  the  knitting 
needles  might  peep  out  beneath  the  shawl.  For 
these  and  similar  omissions  I  lectured  her  continual 
ly,  but  with  little  effect.  It  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  I  could  persuade  her  to  enter  any  house 
but  ours,  although  I  took  especial  care  to  be  impar 
tial  in  my  own  visiting  habits,  determined  at  all 
sacrifice  to  live  down  the  impression  that  I  felt  above 
my  neighbors.  In  fact,  ho\vever  we  may  justify 
j  certain  exclusive  habits  in  populous  places,  they  are 
strikingly  and  confessedly  ridiculous  in  the  wilder 
ness.  What  can  be  more  absurd  than  a  feeling  of 
proud  distinction,  where  a  stray  spark  of  fire,  a  sud 
den  illness,  or  a  day's  contre-temps,  may  throw  you 
entirely  upon  the  kindness  of  your  humblest  neigh 
bor  ?  If  I  treat  Mrs  Timson  with  neglect  to-day, 
can  I  with  any  face  borrow  her  broom  to-morrow  ? 


F  O  L  L  O  W  ?  103 

And  what  would  become  of  me,  if  in  revenge  for 
any  declining  her  invitation  to  tea  this  afternoon,  j 
she  should  decline  coming  to  do  my  washing  on 
Monday  ? 

It  was  as  a  practical  corollary  to  these  my  lec 
tures,  that  I  persuaded  Mrs  Rivers  to  accept  an  in 
vitation  that  we  received  for  the  wedding  of  a  young 
girl,  the  sister  of  our  cooper,  Mr  Whitefield.  I  attir- 
«d  myself  in  white,  considered  here  as  the  extreme 
of  festal  elegance,  to  do  honor  to  the  occasion  ;  and 
called  for  Mrs  Rivers  in  the  ox-cart  at  two  o'clock. 

I  found  her  in  her  ordinary  neat  home-dress;  and 
it  required  some  argument  on  my  part  to  induce  her 
to  exchange  it  for  a  gay  chally  with  appropriate  or 
naments. 

•  It  really  seemed  ridiculous,'  she  said,  '  to  dress 
for  such  a  place  !  and  besides,  my  dear  Mrs  Clavers, 
I  am  afraid  we  shall  be  suspected  of  a  desire  to  out 
shine.' 

I  assured  her  we  were  in  more  danger  of  that 
other  and  far  more  dangerous  suspicion  of  under 
valuing  our  rustic  neighbors. 

'  I  s'pose  they  didn't  think  it  worth  while  to  put 
on  their  best  gowns  for  country-folks  ! ' 

I  assumed  the  part  of  Mentor  on  this  and  many 
similar  occasions  ;  considering  myself  by  this  time 
quite  an  old  resident,  and  of  right  entitled  to  speak 
for  the  natives. 

Mrs  Rivers  was  a  little  disposed  to  laugh  at  the 
ox-cart ;  but  I  soon  convinced  her  that,  with  its 
cushion  of  straw  overspread  with  a  buffalo  robe,  it 
was  far  preferable  to  a  more  ambitious  carriage. 

'  No  letting  down  of  steps,  no  ruining  one's  dress 
against  a  muddy  wheel  !  no  gay  horses  tipping  one 
into  the  gutter ! ' 


104  A     NEW     HOME, 

She  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  the  superiority 
of  our  vehicle,  and  we  congratulated  ourselves  upon 
reclining  a  la  Lalla  Rookh  and  Lady  Mary  Wort- 
ley  Montague.  Certainly  a  carl  is  next  to  a  palan 
quin. 

The  pretty  bride  was  in  white  cambric,  worn  over 
pink  glazed  muslin.  The  prodigiously  stiff  under- 
dress  with  its  large  cords,  (not  more  than  three  or 
four  years  behind  the  fashion,)  gave  additional  slen- 
derness  to  her  taper  waist,  hound  straitly  with  a 
sky-blue  zone.  The  fair  hair  was  decorated,  not 
covered,  with  a  cap,  the  universal  adjunct  of  full 
dress  in  the  country,  placed  far  behind  the  ears,  and 
displaying  the  largest  puffs,  set  off  by  sundry  gilt 
combs.  The  unfailing  high-heeled  prunelle  shoe 
gave  the  finishing-touch,  and  the  whole  was  scent 
ed,  a  Vautrance,  with  essence  of  lemon. 

After  the  ceremony,  which  occupied  perhaps  three 
minutes,  fully  twice  as  long  as  is  required  by  our 
State  laws,  tea  was  served,  absolutely  handed  on  a 
salver,  and  by  the  master  of  the  house,  a  respectable 
farmer.  Mountains  of  cake  followed.  I  think  either 
pile  might  have  measured  a  foot  in  height,  and  each 
piece  would  have  furnished  a  meal  for  a  hungry 
school-boy.  Other  things  were  equally  abundant, 
and  much  pleasant  talk  followed  the  refreshments. 
1  returned  home  highly  delighted,  and  tried  to  per 
suade  my  companion  to  look  on  the  rational  side  of 
the  thing,  which  she  scarcely  seemed  disposed  to  do, 
so  ontri  did  the  whole  appear  to  her.  I,  who  had 
begun  to  claim  for  myself  the  dignified  character  of 
a  cosmopolite,  a  philosophical  observer  of  men  and 
things  ;  consoled  myself  for  this  derogatory  view  of 
Montacute  gentility,  by  thinking,  c  All  city  people 
are  so  cockneyish  1 ' 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  105 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Lend  me  your  ears.  SHAKSPEARE. 

'Grant  graciously  what  you  cannot  refuse  safely*  LACON. 

{  MOTHER  wants  your  sifter,'  said  Miss  lanthe 
Howard,  a  young  lady  of  six  years'  standing,  attired 
in  a  tattered  calico,  thickened  with  dirt;  her  un 
kempt  locks  straggling  from  under  that  hideous- 
substitute  for  a  bonnet,  so  universal  in  the  western 
country,  a  dirty  cotton  handkerchief,  which  is  used, 
ad  nauseam^  for  all  sorts  of  purposes. 

'  Mother  wants  your  sifter,  and  she  says  she 
guesses  you  can  let  her  have  some  sugar  and  tea, 
'cause  you've  got  plenty. 

This  excellent  reason,  '  cause  you've  got  plenty,' 
is  conclusive  as  to  sharing  with  your  neighbors. 
Whoever  comes  into  Michigan  with  nothing,  will 
be  sure  to  better  his  condition  ;  but  wo  to  him  that 
brings  with  him  any  thing  like  an  appearance  of 
abundance,  whether  of  money  or  mere  household 
conveniences.  To  have  them,  and  not  be  willing 
to  share  them  in  some  sort  with  the  whole  commu 
nity,  is  an  unpardonable  crime.  You  must  lend 
your  best  horse  to  qui  que  ce  soit  to  go  ten  miles 
over  hill  and  marsh,  in  the  darkest  night,  for  a 
doctor  ;  or  your  team,  to  travel  twenty  after  a  k'gal ;' 
your  wheel-barrows,  your  shovels,  your  utensils  of 
all  sorts,  belong,  not  to  yourself,  but  to  the  public, 
who  do  not  think  it  necessary  even  to  ask  a  loan, 
10* 


106  A     NEW     HOME, 

but  take  it  for  granted.  The  two  saddles  and 
bridles  of  Montacute  spend  most  of  their  time  trav 
elling  from  house  to  house  a-man-back  ;  and  I  have 
actually  known  a  stray  martingale  to  be  traced  to 
four  dwellings  two  miles  apart,  having  been  lent 
from  one  to  another,  without  a  word  to  the  original 
proprietor,  who  sat  waiting,  not  very  patiently,  to 
commence  a  journey. 

Then  within  doors,  an  inventory  of  your  plenish 
ing  of  all  sorts,  would  scarcely  more  than  include 
the  articles  which  you  are  solicited  to  lend.  Not 
only  are  all  kitchen  utensils  as  much  your  neigh 
bor's  as  your  own,  but  bedsteads,  beds,  blankets, 
sheets,  travel  from  house  to  house,  a  pleasant  and 
effectual  mode  of  securing  the  perpetuity  of  certain 
efflorescent  peculiarities  of  the  skin,  for  which  Mich 
igan  is  becoming  almost  as  famous  as  the  land 
' 'twixt  Maiderikirk  and  John  o' Groat's.'  Sieves, 
smoothing  irons,  and  churns,  run  about  as  if  they 
had  legs  ;  one  brass  kettle  is  enough  for  a  whole 
neighborhood  ;  and  I  could  point  to  a  cradle  which 
has  rocked  half  the  babies  in  Montacute.  For  my 
own  part,  I  have  lent  my  broom,  my  thread,  my 
tape,  my  spoons,  my  cat,  my  thimble,  my  scissors, 
my  shawl,  my  shoes  ;  and  have  been  asked  for  my 
combs  and  brushes  :  and  my  husband,  for  his  shav 
ing  apparatus  and  his  pantaloons. 

But  the  cream  of  the  joke  lies  in  the  manner  of 
the  thing.  It  is  so  straight- forward  and  honest, 
none  of  your  hypocritical  civility  and  servile  grati 
tude  !  Your  true  republican,  when  he  finds  that 
you  possess  any  thing  which  would  contribute  to 
his  convenience,  walks  in  with,  '  Are  you  going  to 
use  your  horses  to-day  V  if  horses  happen  to  be  the 
thing  he  needs. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  107 

4  Yes,  I  shall  probably  want  them.' 
*  O,  well ;    if  you  want  them 1  was  think 
ing  to  get  'em  to  go  up  north  a  piece.' 

Or  perhaps  the  desired  article  comes  within  the 
female  department. 

{  Mother  wants  to  get  some  butter :  that  'ere  but 
ter  you  bought  of  Miss  Barton  this  mornin,' 

And  away  goes  your  golden  store,  to  be  repaid 
perhaps  with  some  cheesy,  greasy  stuff,  brought  in  a 
dirty  pail,  with,  i  Here's  your  butter  ! ' 

A  girl  came  in  to  borrow  a  c  wash-dish,'  '  because 
we've  got  company.'  Presently  she  came  back  : 
4  Mother  says  you've  forgot  to  send  a  towel.' 

1  The  pen  and  ink,  and  a  sheet  o'  paper  and  a 
wafer.'  is  no  unusual  request ;  and  when  the  pen  is 
returned,  you  are  generally  informed  that  you  sent 
'•  an  awful  bad  pen.' 

I  have  been  frequently  reminded  of  one  of  John 
son's  humorous  sketches.  A  man  returning  a  brok 
en  wheel-barrow  to  a  Quaker,  with,  'Here,  I've 
broke  your  rotten  wheel-barrow  usin'  on't.  I  wish 
you'd  get  it  mended  right  off,  'cause  I  want  to  bor 
row  it  again  this  afternoon.'  The  Quaker  is  made 
to  reply,  '  Friend,  it  shall  be  done : '  and  I  wish  I 
possessed  more  of  his  spirit. 

But  I  did  not  intend  to  write  a  chapter  on  invol 
untary  loans  ;  I  have  a  story  to  tell. 

One  of  my  best  neighbors  is  Mr  Philo  Doubleday, 
a  long,  awkward,  honest,  hard-working  Maine-man, 
or  Mainote  I  suppose  one  might  say  ;  so  good-natur 
ed,  that  he  might  be  mistaken  for  a  simpleton  ;  but 
that  must  be  by  those  that  do  not  know  him.  He 
is  quite  an  old  settler,  came  in  four  years  ago,  bring 
ing  with  him  a  wife  who  is  to  him  as  vinegar-bottle 
to  oil-cruit,  or  as  mustard  to  the  sugar  which  is  used 


108  A     NEW     H  O  M  E  f 

Co  soften  its  biting  qualities.  Mrs  Doubleday  has? 
the  sharpest  eyes,  the  sharpest  nose,  the  sharpesl 
tongue,  the  sharpest  elbows,  and  above  all,  the 
sharpest  voice  that  ever  '  penetrated  the  interior '  of 
Michigan.  She  has  a  tall,  straight,  bony  figure,  in 
contour  somewhat  resembling  two  hard-oak  planks 
fastened  together  and  stood  on  end  ;  and,  strange  to 
say  !  she  was  full  five-and-thirty  when  her  mature 
graces  attracted  the  eye  and  won  the  affections  of 
the  worthy  Philo.  What  eclipse  had  come  over  Mr 
Doubleday's  usual  sagacity  when  he  made  choice  of 
his  Polly,  I  am  sure  1  never  could  guess ;  but  he  is 
certainly  the  only  man  in  the  wide  world  who  could 
possibly  have  lived  with  her  •  and  he  makes  her  a 
most  excellent  husband. 

She  is  possessed  with  a  neat  devil ;  I  have  known 
many  such  cases  ;  her  floor  is  scoured  every  night, 
after  all  are  in  bed  but  the  unlucky  scrubber,  Betsey  y 
the  maid  of  all  work  ;  and  wo  to  the  unfortunate 
i  indifiddle,'  as  neighbor  Jenkins  says,  who  first  sets 
dirty  boot  on  it  in  the  morning.  If  men  come  in  to 
talk  over  road  business,  for  Philo  is  much  sought 
when  '  the  public  '  has  any  work  to  do,  or  school- 
business,  for  that  being  very  troublesome,  and  quite 
devoid  of  profitr  is  often  conferred  upon  Philo,  Mrs 
Doubleday  makes  twenty  errands  into  the  room,, 
expressing  in  her  visage  all  the  force  of  Mrs  Rad 
dle's  inquiry y  '  Is  them  wretches  going  ?  '  And 
when  at  length  their  backs  are  turned,  out  comes 
the  bottled  vengeance.  The  sharp  eyes,  tonguer 
elbow,  and  voice,  are  all  in  instant  requisition. 

c  Fetch  the  broorny  Betsey  !  and  the  scrub  broom, 
Betsey  I  and  the  mop,  and  that  'ere  dish  of  soapr 
Betsey ;  and  why  on  earth  didn't  you  bring  some 
ashes?  You  didn't  expect  to  clean  such  a  floor  as 


FOLLOW?  109 

this  without  ashes,  did  you  ? '— •*  What  time  are  you 
going1  to  have  dinner,  my  dear  ?'  says  the  imper 
turbable  Philo,  who  is  getting  ready  to  go  out. 

'  Dinner  !  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  !  there's  no  time 
to  cook  dinner  in  this  house  !  nothing  but  slave, 
.slave,  slave,  from  morning  till  night,  cleaning  up 
after  a  set  of  nasty,  dirty,'  &c.  &c.  '  Phew  ! '  says 
Mr  Doubleday,  looking  at  his  fuming  helpmate 
with  a  calm  smile,  c  It'll  all  rub  out  when  it's  dry, 
if  you'll  only  let  it  alone.' 

'  Yes,  yes  ;  and  it  would  be  plenty  clean  enough 
for  you  if  there  had  been  forty  horses  in  here.' 

Philo  on  some  such  occasion  waited  till  his  Polly 
had  stepped  out  of  the  room,  and  then  with  a  bit 
of  chalk  wrote  on  the  broad  black-walnut  mantel 
piece  : — 

BoH  and  bar  hold  gate  -of  wood, 
Gate  of  iron  springs  make  good, 
Bolt  nor  spring  can  bind  the  flame, 
Woman's  tongue  can  no  man  tame. 

and  then  took  his  hat  and  walked  off. 

This  is  the  favorite  mode  of  vengeance — l  poetical 
justice  '  he  calls  it ;  and  as  he  is  never  at  a  loss  for 
a  rhyme  of  his  own  or  other  people's,  Mrs  Double- 
day  stands  in  no  small  dread  of  these  efforts  of 
genius.  Once,  when  Philo's  crony,  James  Porter, 
the  blacksmith,  had  left  the  print  of  his  blackened 
knuckles  on  the  outside  of  the  oft-scrubbed  door,  and 
was  the  subject  of  some  rather  severe  remarks  from 
the  gentle  Polly,  Philo,  as  he  left  the  house  with  his 
friend,  turned  and  wrote  over  the  offended  spot : — 

!  Knock  not  here  ! 
Or  dread  my  dear. 

P.  D. 

and  the  very  next  person  that  came  was  Mrs  Skin 
ner,  the  merchant's  wife,  all  dressed  in  her  red  me- 


; 


110  A     NE  W     HOM  E  T 

rinor  to  make  a  visit.  Mrs  Skinner,  who  did  not 
possess  an  unusual  share  of  tact,  walked  gravely 
round  to  the  back-door,  and  there  was  Mrs  Double- 
day  up  to  the  eyes  in  soap-making.  Dise  was  the 
mortification,  and  point-blank  were  the  questions  as 
to  how  the  visiter  came  to  go  round  that  way  ;  and 
when  the  warning  couplet  was  produced  in  justifica 
tion,,  we  must  draw  a  veil  over  what  followed — as 
the  novelists  say. 

Sometimes  these  poeticals  came  in  aid  of  poor 
Betsey ;  as  once,  when  on  hearing  a  crash  in  the 
little  shanty-kitcken,  Mrs  Doubleday  called  in  her 
shrillest  tones,  '  Betsey  !  what  on  earth's  the  mat 
ter  ?  '  Poor  Betseyr  knowing  what  was  coming, 
answered  in  a  deprecatory  whine,  '  The  cow's  kick 
ed  over  the  buckwheat  batter  ! r 

When  the  clear,  hilarious  voice  of  Philo  from  the 
yard,  where  he  was  chopping,  instantly  completed 
the  triplet — 

'  Take  up  the  pieces  and  throw  'em  at  her  ! '  for 
once  the  grirn  features  of  his  spouse  relaxed  into  a 
smile,  and  Betsey  escaped  her  scolding. 

Yet,  Mrs  Doubleday  is  not  without  her  excellent 
qualities  as  a  wife,  a  friend^  and  a  neighbor.  She 
^  keeps  her  husband's  house  and  stockings  in  unex- 
•  ceptionable  trim.  Her  emptins  are  the  envy  of  the 
\  neighborhood.  Her  vinegar  is— as  how  should  it  fail? 
—the  ne  plus  ultra  of  sharpness ;  and  her  pickles  are 


greener  than  the  grass  of  the  field.  She  will  watch/ 
night  after  night  with  the  sick,  perform  the  last  sad 
offices  for  the  dead?  or  take  to  her  home  and  heartv 
the  little  ones  whose  mother  is  removed  forever  from! 
her  place  at  the  fireside.  All  this  she  can  do  clig 
fully,  and  she  will  not  repay  herself  as  many  good*. 
people  do  by  recounting  every  word  of  the  quexulgu 


^•T^*^#tMU<^e./y       &s£o-      M    /&*-&£&£  ' 
/~i,-t~^      ~*^?~      /*• 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  Ill 

sick  man,  or  the  desolate  mourner,  with  added  hints 
of  tumbled  drawers,  closets  all  in  heaps,  or  awful( 
dirty  kitchens. 

I  was  sitting  one  morning  with  my  neighbor,  Mrs 
Jenkins,  who  is  a  sister  of  Mr  Doubleday,  when  Bet 
sey,  Mrs  Doubleday's  '  hired  girl,'  came  in  with  one 
of  the  shingles  of  Philo's  handiwork  in  her  hand, 
which  bore  in  Mr  Doubkday's  well-known  chalk 
marks — 

Come  quick,  Fanny! 
And  bring  tlie  granny, 
For  Mrs  Double- 
day's  in  trouble, 

And  the  next  intelligence  was  of  a  fine  new  pair 
of  lungs  at  that  hitherto  silent  mansion.  I  called 
very  soon  after  to  take  a  peep  at  the  :  latest  found  ; ' 
and  if  the  suppressed  delight  of  the  new  papa  was  a) 
treat,  how  much  more  was  the  softened  aspect,  the! 
womanized  tone  of  the  proud  and  happy  mother.  l| 
never  saw  a  being  so  completely  transformed.  She 
would  almost  forget  to  answer  me,  in  her  absorbed 
watching  of  the  breath  of  the  little  sleeper.  Even 
when  trying  to  be  polite,  and  to  say  what  the  occa 
sion  demanded,  her  eyes  would  not  be  withdrawn 
from  the  tiny  face.  Conversation  on  any  subject 
but  the  ever-new  theme  of  '  babies '  was  out  of  the 
question.  Whatever  we  began  upon  whirled  round 
sooner  or  later  to  the  one  point.  The  needle  may 
tremble,  but  it  turns  not  with  the  less  constancy  to 
the  pole. 

As  I  pass  for  an  oracle  in  the  matter  of  paps  and 
possets,  1  had  frequent  communication  with  my 
now  happy  neighbor,  who  had  forgotten  to  scold  her 
husband,  learned  to  let  Betsey  have  time  to  eat,  and 
omitted  the  nightly  scouring  of  the  floor,  lest'  so 


112  A     NEW     HOME,- 

much  dampness  might  be  bad  for  the  baby.  Wer 
were  in  deep  consultation  one  morning  on  some* 
important  point  touching  the  well-being  of  this  sole 
object  of  Mrs  Doubleday's  thoughts  and  dreamsr 
when  the  very  same  little  lan-the  Howard,  dirty  as 
ever,  presented  herself.  She  sat  down  and  stared 
awhile  without  speaking,  a  V  ordinaire  ;  and  then 
informed  us  that  her  mother  '  wanted  Miss  Double- 
day  to  let  her  have  her  baby  for  a  little  while,  'cause 

Benny's  mouth's  so  sore  that' but  she  had  no 

time  to  finish  the  sentence. 

'  LEND  MY  BABY  ! !  ! r — and  her  utterance  failed. 
The  new  mother's  feelings  were  fortunately  too  big 
for  speech,  and  lanthe  wisely  disappeared  before  Mrs 
Doubleday  found  her  tongue.  Philo,  who  entered 
on  the  instant,  burst  into  one  of  his  electrifying 
laughs,  with, — 

r   «•  Ask  my  Polly, 

'    To-  lend  her  dolly  ! ' 

— and  1  could  not  help  thinking  that  one  must  come 
*  west '  in  order  to  learn  a  little  of  every  thing. 

The  identical  glass  lube  which  I  offered  Mrs- 
Howard,  as  a  substitute  for  Mrs  Doubleday's  babyr 
and  which  had  already,  frail  as  it  is,  threaded  the 
country  for  miles  in  all  directions,  is,  even  as  I  writer 
in  demand ;  a  man  on  horseback  comes  from  some 
where  near  Danforth's,  and  asks  in  mysterious 
whispers  for but  I  shall  not  tell  what  he  calls- 
it.  The  reader  must  come  to  Michigan, 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  113 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Le   bonheur   et   le   malheur  des   homines   ne  depend  pas  moins  de  leur    | 
humeur  que  de  la  fortune.  ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

It  has  been  a  canker  in 

Tliy  heart  from  the  beginning:    but  for  this 
We  had  not  felt  our  poverty,  but  as 
.Millions  of  myriads  feel  it, — cheerfully  ; — 
****** 

Thou  might'st  have  earn'd  thy  bread  as  thousands  earn  it; 
Or,  if  that  seem  too  humble,  tried  by  commerce, 
Or  other  civic  means,  to  mend  thy  fortunes. 

BYKON. — WERNER. 

THE  winter — the  much  dreaded  winter  in  the 
woods,  strange  to  tell,  flew  away  more  rapidly  than  J 
any  previous  winter  of  jTiyJife^    OneTmis  so  much  1^<*A 
tojj&in  the  country.      The  division  of  labor  is  al 
most  unknown.      If  in  absolutely  savage  life,  each 
man  is  of  necessity  'his  own  tailor,  tent-maker,  car 
penter,  cook,  huntsman,  and  fisherman  ; ' — so  in  the 
state  of  society  which  I  am  attempting  to  describe 
each  woman  is,  at  times  at  least,  her  own  cook 
chamber-maid   and  waiter ;    nurse,  seamstress  and 
school-ma'am ;    not  to  mention   various  occasional 
callings  to  any  one  of  which  she  must  he  able  to 
turn  her  hand  at  a  moment's  notice.     And  every' 
man,  whatever  his  circumstances  or  resources,  must 
be  qualified  to  play  groom,  teamster,  or  boot-black, 
as  the  case  may  be  ;   besides  '  tending  the  baby  '  at 
odd  times,  and  cutting  wood  to  cook  his  dinner  with. 
11 


114  ANEWHOMEr 

If  he  has  good  sense,  good  nature,  and  a  little  spice 
of  practical  philosophy,  all  this  goes  exceedingly 
well.  He  will  find  neither  his  mind  less  cheerful, 
nor  his  body  less  vigorous  for  these  little  sacrifices. 
If  he  is  too  proud  or  too  indolent  to  submit  to  such 
infringements  upon  his  dignity  and  ease,  most  essen 
tial  deductions  from  the  daily  comfort  of  his  family 
will  be  the  mortifying  and  vexatious  result  of  his- 
obstinate  adherence  to  early  habits. 

We  witnessed  by  accident  so  striking  a  lesson 
on  this  subject,  not  long  after  our  removal  to  Monta- 
eute,  that  I  must  be  allowed  to  record  the  impression 
it  made  upon  my  mind.  A  business  errand  called 
Mr  Clavers  some  miles  from  home  ;  and  having 
heard  much  of  the  loveliness  of  the  scenery  in  thai 
direction,  I  packed  the  children  into  the  great  wagons 
and  went  with  him. 

The  drive  was  a  charming  one.     The  time,  mid 
summer,  and  the  wilderness  literally  '  blossoming  as 
the  rose.'     In  a  tour  of  ten  miles  we  saw  three  love 
ly  lakes,  each  a  lonely  gem  set  deep  in  masses  of 
emerald  green,  which  shut  it  in  completely  from  all 
but  its  own  bright  beauty.     The  road  was  a  most 
intricate  one  '  thorough  bush — thorough  brier,'  and 
the  ascents,  the  '  pitches/  the   ;  sidlings '  in  some 
places  quite  terrific.      At  one  of  the  latter  points,, 
where  the  road  wound,  as  so  many  Michigan  roads 
do,  round  the  edge  of  a  broad  green  marsh  ;  I  insist 
ed  on  getting  out,  as  usual.     The  place  was  quite 
damp  ;  but  I  thought  I  could  pick  my  way  over  the 
green  spots  better  than  trust  myself  in  the  wagon, 
which  went  along  for  some  rods  at  an  angle  (/  said 
so  at  least)  of  forty-five.     Two  men  were  mowing 
on  the  marsh,  and  seemed  highly  amused  at  my 
perplexity  ?  when  after  watching  the  receding  vehi- 


WH07LL     FOLLOW?  115 

de  till  it  ascended  a  steep  bank  on  the  farther  side, 
I  began  my  course.  For  a  few  steps  I  made  out 
tolerably,  but  then  I  began  to  sink  most  inconven 
iently.  Silly  thin  shoes  again.  Nobody  should 
•ever  go  one  mile  from  home  in  thirTilioes  inOWs- 
<cl)untry,  but  old  Broadway  habits  are  so  hard  to 
forget" 

At  length,  my  case  became  desperate.  One  shoe 
had  provokingly  disappeared.  I  had  stood  on  one 
foot  as  long  as  ever  goose  did,  but  no  trace  of  the 
missing  Broqua  could  T  find,  and  down  went  the 
stocking  six  inches  into  the  black  mud.  I  cried  out 
for  help  ;  and  the  mowers,  with  '  a  lang  and  a  loud 
guffaw,''  came  leisurely  towards  me.  Just  then  ap 
peared  Mr  Clavers  on  the  green  slope  above  men 
tioned.  It  seems  his  high-mightiness  had  concluded 
by  this  time  that  I  had  been  sufficiently  punished  for 
my  folly,  (all  husbands  are  so  tyrannical  !)  and  con 
descended  to  come  to  my  rescue.  1  should  have, 
been  very  sulky  ;  but  then,  thej^_wej£jhej^^ 
However,  my  spouse  did  try  to  find  a  road  which  /  ~ 
should  less  frequently  give  rise  to  those  troublesome 
terrors  of  mine.  So  we  drove  on  and  on,  through 
ancient  wpods,  which  I  could  not  help  admiring ; 
and,  at  length,,  missing  our  way,  we  came  suddenly 
upon  a  log-house,  very  different  from  that  which  was 
the  object  of  our  search.  It  was  embowered  in  oaks 
of  the  largest  size  ;  and  one  glance  told  us  that  the 
hand  of  refined  taste  had  been  there.  The  under 
brush  had  been  entirely  cleared  away,  and  the  broad 
expanse  before  the  house  looked  like  a  smooth-shav 
en  lawn,  deep-shado\ved  by  the  fine  trees  I  have 
mentioned.  Gleams  of  sunset  fell  on  beds  of 
flowers  of  every  hue;  curtains  of  French  muslin 
shaded  the  narrow  windows,  and  on  a  rustic  seat 


116  ANEW     HOME, 

near  the  door  lay  a  Spanish  guitar,  with  its  broad 
scarf  of  blue  silk.  1  could  not  think  of  exhibiting 
my  inky  stocking  to  the  inmates  of  such  a  cottage, 
though  I  longed  for  a  peep  ;  and  Mr  Clavers  went 
alone  to  the  house  to  inquire  the  way,  while  I  play 
ed  tiger  and  held  the  horses. 

I  might  have  remained  undiscovered,  but  for  the 
delighted  exclamations  of  the  children,  who  were  in 
raptures  with  the  beautiful  flowers,  and  the  lake 
which  shone,  a  silver  mirror,  immediately  beneath 
the  bank  on  which  we  were  standing.  Their  mer 
ry  talk  echoed  through  the  trees,  and  presently  out 
came  a  young  lady  in  a  demi-suisse  costume  ;  her 
dark  hair  closely  braided  and  tied  with  ribbons,  and 
the  pockets  of  her  rustic  apron  full  of  mosses  and 
wild  flowers.  With  the  air  rather  of  Paris  than  of 
Michigan,  she  insisted  on  my  alighting ;  and  though 
in  awkward  plight,  1  suffered  myself  to  be  persuad 
ed.  The  interior  of  the  house  corresponded  in  part 
with  the  impressions  I  had  received  from  my  first 
glance  at  the  exterior.  There  was  a  harp  in  a  re 
cess,  and  the  white-washed  log-walls  were  hung 
with  a  variety  of  cabinet  pictures.  A  tasteful  dra 
pery  of  French  chintz  partly  concealed  another  re 
cess,  closely  filled  with  books  ;  a  fowling-piece  hung 
over  the  chimney,  and  before  a  large  old-fashioned 
looking-glass  stood  a  French  pier-table,  on  which 
were  piled  fossil  specimens,  mosses,  vases  of  flowers,, 
books,  pictures,  and  music.  So  far  all  was  well ; 
and  two  young  ladies  seated  on  a  small  sofa  near 
the  table,  with  netting  and  needle-work,  were  in 
keeping  with  the  romantic  side  of  the  picture.  But 
there  was  more  than  all  this. 

The  bare  floor  was  marked  in  every  direction 
with  that  detestable  yellow  dye  which  mars  every 


WHO^LL     FOLLOW?  117 

I  thing  in  this  country,  although  a  great  box  filled 
with  sand  stood  near  the  hearth,  melancholy  and 
fruitless  provision  against  this  filthy  visitation.  Two 
great  dirty  dogs  lay  near  a  large  rocking-chair,  and 
this  rocking-chair  sustained  the  tall  person  of  the 
master  of  the  house,  a  man  of  perhaps  forty  years  or 
thereabouts,  the  lines  of  whose  face  were  such,  as 
he  who  runs  may  read.  Pride  and  passion,  and 
reckless  self-indulgence  were  there,  and  fierce  dis 
content  and  determined  indolence.  An  enormous 
pair  of  whiskers,  which  surrounded  the  whole  lower 
part  of  the  countenance,  afforded  incessant  employ 
ment  for  the  long  slender  fingers,  which  showed  no 
marks  of  labor,  except  very  dirty  nails.  This  gentle 
man  had,  after  all,  something  of  a  high-bred  air,  if 
one  did  not  look  at  the  floor,  and  could  forget  cer 
tain  indications  of  excessive  carelessness  discernible 
in  his  dress  and  person. 

.We  had  not  yet  seen  the  lady  of  the  cottage ;  the 
young  girl  who  had  ushered  me  in  so  politely  was 
her  sister,  now  on  a  summer  visit.  Mrs  B short 
ly  after  entered  in  an  undress,  but  with  a  very  lady 
like  grace  of  manner,  and  the  step  of  a  queen.  Her 
face,  which  bore  the  traces  of  beauty,  struck  me  as 
one  of  the  most  melancholy  I  had  ever  seen  ;  and  it 
was  over-spread  with  a  sort  of  painful  flush,  which 
did  not  conceal  its  habitual  paleness. 

We  had  been  conversing  but  a  few  moments, 
when  a  shriek  from  the  children  called  every  one 

out  of  doors  in  an  instant.     One  of  Mr  B 's  sons 

had  ventured  too  near  the  horses,  and  received  from 
our  '  old  Tom,'  who  is  a  little  roguish,  a  kick  on  the 
arm.  He  roared  most  lustily,  and  every  body  was 
very  much  frightened,  and  ran  in  all  directions  seefc- 
11* 


118  A     NEW     HOME, 

ing  remedies.  I  called  upon  a  boy,  who  seemed  to 
be  a  domestic,  to  get  some  salt  and  vinegar,  (for  the 
mother  was  disabled  by  terror  ;)  but  as  he  only 
grinned  and  stared  at  me,  I  ran  into  the  kitchen  to 
procure  it  myself.  I  opened  a  closet  door,  but  the 
place  seemed  empty  or  nearly  so  ;  I  sought  every 
where  within  ken,  but  all  was  equally  desolate.  I 
opened  the  door  of  a  small  bed-room,  but  I  saw  in  a 
moment  that  I  ought  not  to  have  gone  there,  and 
shut  it  again  instantly.  Hopeless  of  finding  what  I 
sought,  1  returned  to  the  parlor,  and  there  the  little 
boy  was  holding  a  vinaigrette  to  his  mother's  nose, 
while  the  young  ladies  were  chafing  her  hands. 
She  had  swooned  in  excessive  alarm,  and  the  kick 
had,  after  all,  produced  only  a  trifling  bruise. 

After  Mrs  B —  -  had  recovered  herself  a  little, 
she  entered  at  some  length,  and  with  a  good  deal  of 
animation,  on  a  detail  of  her  Michigan  experiences  I 
not,  as  1  had  hoped  at  the  beginning, — 

In  equal  scale  weighing  delight  and  dole  : 

But  giving  so  depressing  a  view  of  the  difficulties  of 
the  country,  that  I  felt  almost  disposed  for  the  mo 
ment  to  regret  my  determination  of  trying  a  wood 
land  life.  She  had  found  all  barren.  They  had 
no  neighbors,  or  worse  than  none — could  get  no  do 
mestics — found  every  one  disposed  to  deal  unfairly, 
in  all  possible  transactions  ;  and  though  last,  not 
least,  could  get  nothing  fit  to  eat. 

Mr  B —  — 's  account,  though  given  with  a  care 
less,  off-hand  air,  had  a  strong  dash  of  bitterness  in 
it — a  sort  of  fierce  defiance  of  earth  and  heaven, 
which  is  apt  to  be  the  resource  of  those  who  have 
wilfully  thrown  away  their  chances  of  happiness. 
His  remarks  upon  the  disagreeables  which  we  had 


FOLLOW?  119 

to  encounter,  were  carried  at  least  as  far  as  those  of 
his  wife  !  and  he  asserted  that  there  was  but  one 
alternative  in  Michigan — cheat  or  be  cheated. 

We  were  not  invited  to  remain  to  tea  ;  but  took 
our  leave  with  many  polite  hopes  of  further  acquaint 
ance.  Mr  Clavers  found  the  spot  he  had  been  seek 
ing,  and  then,  taking  another  road  home,  we  called 
to  see  Mrs  Danforth  ;  whom  we  considered  even 
then  in  the  light  of  the  very  good  friend  which  she 
has  since  so  often  proved  herself.  I  told  of  our  acci 
dental  visit  and  learned  from  the  good  lady  some 
particulars  respecting  this  family,  whose  condition 
seemed  so  strange  and  contradictory,  even  in  the 
western  country,  where  every  element  enters  into 
the  composition  of  that  anomalous  mass  called  so- 
ciety. 

Mr  B •  was  born  to  a  large  fortune,  a  lot 

which  certainly  seems  in  our  country  to  carry  a 
curse  with  it  in  a  large  proportion  of  instances. 
Feeling  quite  above  the  laborious  calling  by  which 
his  father  had  amassed  wealth,  the  son's  only  aim 
had  been  to  spend  his  money,  like  a  gentleman ; 
and  in  this  he  had  succeeded  so  well  that  by  the 
time  he  had  established  himself,  at  the  head  of  the 
ton  in  one  of  our  great  Eastern  cities,  and  been  set 
down  as  an  irreclaimable  roue  by  his  sober  friends, 
he  found  that  a  few  more  losses  at  play  would  leave 
him  stranded.  But  he  had  been  quite  the  idol  of 
the  '  good  society '  into  \vhich  he  had  purchased 
admission,  and  the  one  never-failing  resource  in 
such  cases — a  rich  wife — was  still  perhaps  in  his 
power.  Before  his  altered  fortunes  were  more  than 
whispered  by  his  very  particular  friends,  he  had 
secured  the  hand  of  an  orphan  heiress,  a  really 
amiable  and  well-bred  girl ;  and  it  was  not  until 


120  A     NEW     HOME, 

she  had  been  his  wife  for  a  year  or  more,  that  she 
knew  that  her  thousands  had  done  no  more  than 
prop  a  falling  house. 

Many  efforts  were  made  by  the  friends  on  both 

sides,  to  aid  Mr  B in  establishing  himself  in 

business,  but  his  pride  and  his  indolence  proved  in 
superable  difficulties  ;  and  after  some  years  of  those 
painful  struggles  between  pride  and  poverty,  which 
so  many  of  the  devotees  of  fashion  can  appreciate 
from  their  own  bitter  experience,  a  retreat  to  the 
West  was  chosen  as  the  least  of  prospective  evils. 

Here  the  whole  country  was  before  him  '  where 
to  choose.'  He  could  have  bought  at  government 
price  any  land  in  the  region  to  which  he  had  direct 
ed  his  steps.  Water-power  of  all  capabilities  was  at 
his  command,  for  there  was  scarce  a  settler  in  the 
neighborhood.  But  he  scorned  the  idea  of  a  place 
for  business.  What  he  wanted  was  a  charming 
spot  for  a  gentlemanly  residence.  There,  with  his 
gun  and  his  fishing  rod,  he  was  to  live ;  a  small 
income  which  still  remained  of  his  wife's  fortune 
furnishing  the  only  dependence. 

And  this  income,  small  as  it  was,  would  have 
been,  in  prudent  and  industrious  hands,  a  subsis 
tence  at  least;  so  small  is  the  amount  really  requisite 
for  a  frugal  way  of  life  in  these  isolated  situations. 

But  unfortunately  Mr  B 's  character  had  by  no 

means  changed  with  his  place  of  residence.  His 
land,  which  by  cultivation  would  have  yielded 
abundant  supplies  for  his  table,  was  suffered  to  lie 
unimproved,  because  he  had  not  money  to  pay 
laborers.  Even  a  garden  was  too  much  trouble  ; 
the  flower-beds  I  had  seen  were  made  by  the  hands 

of  Mrs  B and  her  sisters  ;    and  it  was  asserted 

that  the  comforts  of  life  were  often  lacking  in  this 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW.  121 

unfortunate  household,  and  would  have  been  always 

deficient  but  for  constant  aid  from   Mrs  B 's 

friends. 

Mrs  B had  done  as  women  so  often  do  in  simi 
lar  situations,  making  always  a  great  effort  to  keep 
up  a  certain  appearance,  and  allowing  her  neighbors 
to  discover  that  she  considered  them  far  beneath  her; 
she  had  still  forgotten  her  delicate  habits,  and  that 
they  were  delicate  and  lady-like,  no  one  can  doubt 
who  had  ever  seen  her,  and  labored  with  all  her 
little  strength  for  the-  comfort  of  her  family.  She 
had  brought  up  five  children  on  little  else  beside  In 
dian  meal  and  potatoes  ;  and  at  one  time  the  neigh 
bors  had  known  the  whole  family  live  for  weeks 
upon  bread  and  tea  without  sugar  or  milk  ; — Mr 

B sitting  in  the  house  smoking  cigars,  and 

playing  the  flute,  as  much  of  a  gentleman  as  ever. 

And  these  people,  bringing  with  them  such  views 
and  feelings  as  make  straitened  means  productive  of 
absolute  wretchedness  any  where,  abuse  Michigan, 
and  visit  upon  their  homely  neighbors  the  bitter  feel 
ings  which  spring  from  that  fountain  of  gall,  morti 
fied  yet  indomitable  pride.  Finding  themselves 
growing  poorer  and  poorer,  they  persuade  them 
selves  that  all  who  thrive,  do  so  by  dishonest  gains, 
or  by  mean  sacrifices ;  and  they  are  teaching  their 
children,  by  the  irresistible  power  of  daily  example, 
to  despise  plodding  industy,  and  to  indulge  in  repin 
ing  and  feverish  longings  after  unearned  enjoyments. 
But  I  am  running  into  an  absolute  homily  !  I 
set  out  to  say  only  that  we  had  been  warned  at  the 
beginning  against  indulging  in  certain  habits  which 
darken  the  whole  course  of  country  life  ;  and  here  I 
have  been  betrayed  into  a  chapter  of  sermonizing. 
I  can  only  beg  pardon  and  resume  my  broken  thread.  , 


122 


CHAPTER  XX. 


I  come,  I  come  !    ye  have  called  me  long. 
J  come  o'er  the  mountains  with  light  and  song ! 
Away  from  the  chamber  and  sullen  hearth  ! 
The  young  leaves  are  dancing  in  breezy  mirth. 

MRS.  HKMANS. —  Voice  of  Spring: 

And  because  the  breath  of  flowers  is  far  sweeter  in  the  air  (where  it 
comes  and  goes  like  the  warbling  of  music,)  therefore  nothing  is  more  fil 
for  that  delight  than  to  know  what  be  the  flowers  and  plants  that  do  best 
perfume  the  air. — BA.CON. 

T  BELIEVE  I  was  recurring  to  the  rapidity  with 
\vhich  our  first  winter  in  the  wilds  slipped  away. 
We  found  that  when  the  spring  came  we  were  not 
half  prepared  to  take  advantage  of  it ;  but  armed 
with  the  '  American  Gardener,'  and  quantities  of 
choice  seeds  received  in  a  box  of  treasures  from  home 
during  the  previous  Autumn,  we  set  about  making 
something  like  a  garden.  It  would  seem  that  in  our 
generous  soil  this  would  not  be  a  difficult  task  ;  but 
our  experience  has  taught  us  quite  differently.  Be 
sides  the  eradication  of  stumps,  which  is  a  work  of 
time  and  labor  any  where,  the  '  grubs '  present  a 
most  formidable  hindrance  to  all  gardening  efforts  in 
the  -'oak-openings.'  I  dare  say  my  reader  imag 
ines  a  'grub'  to  be  a  worm,  a  destructive  wretch 
that  spoils  peach  trees.  In  Michigan,  it  is  quite 
another  affair.  Grubs  are  in  Western  parlance,  the 
gnarled  roots  of  small  trees  and  shrubs,  with  which 
our  soil  is  interlaced  in  some  places  almost  to  absolute 
solidity.  When  these  are  disturbed  by  the  immense 
'breaking  up'  plough,  with  its  three  or  four  yoke 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  123 

of  oxen,  the  surface  of  the  ground  wears  every  where 
the  appearance  of  chevaux-de-frize ;  and  to  pile  in 
heaps  for  burning,  such  of  these  serried  files  as  have 
been  fairly  loosened  by  the  plough,  is  a  work  of 
much  time  and  labor.  And  after  this  is  done  in  the 
best  way,  your  potagerie  will  still  seem  to  be  full 
of  grubs  ;  and  it  will  take  two  or  three  years  to  get 
rid  of  these  troublesome  proofs  of  the  fertility  of  your 
soil.  But  your  incipient  Eden  will  afford  much  of 
interest  and  comfort  before  this  work  is  accom 
plished,  and  I  sincerely  pity  those  who  lack  a  taste 
for  this  primitive  source  of  pleasure. 

On  the  opening  of  our  first  spring,  the  snow  had 
scarcely  disappeared  ere  the  green  tops  of  my  early 
bulbs  were  peeping  above  the  black  soil  in  which 
they  had  been  buried   on  our  first  arrival;  and  the 
interest  with  which  I  watched  each  day's  develope-j 
ment  of  these  lovely  children  of  the  sun,  might  all 
most  compare  with  that  which  I  felt  in  the  daily  in-;, 
creasing  perfections  of  my  six-months-old   Charlie,; 
whose  rosy  cheeks  alone  could,'  in  my  view  at  least,,; 
outblush  rny  splendid  double  hyacinths. 

Whatever  of  a  perennial  kind  we  could  procure 
we  planted  at  once,  without  waiting  until  our  gar' 
den  should  be  permanently  arranged.     All  that  w 
have  since  regretted  on  this  point  is  that  we  had  no 
made  far  greater  efforts  to   increase   our   variety  5 
since  one  years  time  is  well  worth  gaining,  where 
such  valuables  are  in  question. 

On  the  subject  of  ilowers,  I  scarcely  dare  trust 
my  pen  with  a  word,  so  sure  am  I  that  my  enthusi 
astic  love  for  them  would,  to  most  readers,  seem  ab 
solutely  silly  or  affected.  But  where  the  earth  pro 
duces  spontaneously  such  myriads  of  splendid  speci 
mens,  it  would  seem  really  ungrateful  to  spare  the 


124  A     NEW     HOME, 

little  time  and  pains  required  for  their  cultivation, 
Tliis  is  a  siri  which  I  at  least  shall  avoid  ;  and  I 
lose  no  opportunity  of  attempting  to  inspire  my 
neighbors  with  some  small  portion  of  my  love  for 
every  thing  which  can  be  called  a  flower,  whether 
exotic  or  home-bred. 

The  ordinary  name  with  us  for  a  rose  is  'a  rosy- 
flower  ;'  our  vase  of  flowers,  usually  a  broken-nosed 
pitcher,  is  a  'posy-pot ;'  and  '  yaller  lilies'  are  among 
the  most  dearly-prized  of  all  the  gifts  of  Flora.  A 
neighbor  after  looking  approvingly  at  a  glass  of 
splendid  tulips,  of  which  I  was  vain-glorious  beyond 
all  justification,  asked  me  if  I  got  'them  blossoms 
out  of  these  here  woods.'  Another  coolly  broke  off 
a  spike  of  my  finest  hyacinths,  and  after  putting  it 
to  his  undiscmninating  nose,  threw  it  on  the  ground 
with  a  cpali  !'  as  contemptuous  as  Hamlet's.  But 
1  revenged  myself  when  I  set  him  sniffing  at  a 
crown  imperial — so  we  are  at  quits  now. 
/  A  lady  to  whom  I  offered  a  cutting  of  my  noble 
balm  geraneum,  with  leaves  larger  than  Charlie's 
hand,  declined  the  gift,  saying,  '  she  never  know'd 
nobody  make  nothin'  by  raisin'  sich  things.'  One 
might  have  enlightened  her  a  little  as  to  their 
moneyed  value,  but  I  held  my  peace  and  gave  her 
some  sage-seed. 

Yet,  oddly  enough — if  any  thing  could  be  odd  in 
Michigan — there  is,  within  three  miles  of  us,  a  gar 
dener  and  florist  of  no  mean  rank,  and  one  whose 
aid  can  be  obtained  at  any  time  for  some  small  con 
sideration  of  'rascal  counters  ;'  so  that  a  hot-bed,  or 
even  a  green-house  is  within  our  reach. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  there  could  scarcely 
be  a  trade  or  profession  which  is  not  largely  repre 
sented  among  the  farmers  of  Michigan,  judging  from 


FOLLOW?  125 

the  somewhat  extensive  portion  of  the  State  with 
which  we  have  become  familiar.  I  was  regretting 
the  necessity  of  a  journey  to  Detroit  for  the  sake  of 
a  gold  filling  ;  when  lo  !  a  dentist  at  my  elbow, 
with  his  case  of  instruments,  his  gold  foil,  and  his 
skill,  all  very  much  at  my  service. 

Montacute,  half-fledged  as  it  is,  affords  facilities 
that  one  could  scarce  expect.  Besides  the  black-; 
smith,  the  cooper,  the  chair  maker,  the  collar  maker, 
and  sundry  carpenters  and  masons,  and  three  stores, 
there  is  the  mantua-maker  for  your  dresses,  the  mil 
liner  for  your  bonnets,  not  mine,  the  '  hen-tailor.'  for 
your  little  boy's  pantaloons  ;  the  plain  seamstress^ 
plain  enough  sometimes,  for  all  the  sewing  you  can't 
possibly  get  time  for,  and 

'  The  spinners,  and  the  knitters  in  the  sun,' 

or  in  the  chimney-corner,  for  all  your  needs  in  the 
winter  hosiery  line.  Is  one  of  your  guests  depen 
dent  upon  a  barber?  Mr  Jenkins  can  shave. 
Does  your  husband  get  too  shaggy  ?  Mr  Jenkins 
cuts  hair.  Does  he  demolish  his  boot  upon  a  grub? 
Mr  Jenkins  is  great  at  rtfacciamcnto.  Does  Billy 
lose  his  cap  in  the  pond?  Mr  Jenkins  makes  caps 
comme  il  y  en  a  peu.  Does  your  bellows  get  the 
asthma?  Mr  Jenkins  is  a  famous  Francis  Flute. 
Then  there  is  Philemon  Greenly  has  been  appren 
ticed  to  a  baker,  and  he  can  make  you  crackers, 
baker's-bread  and  round-hearts,  the  like  of  which 

— ,  but  you  should  get  his  story.  And  1  can 
certainly  make  long  digressions,  if  nothing  else. 
Here  I  am  wandering  like  another  Eve  from  my 
dearly  beloved  garden. 

A  bed  of  asparagus — I  mean  a  dozen  of  them — 
12  ^~ 


126  A     NEW     HOME, 

V  should  be  among  the  very  first  cares  of  spring  ;  for 
you  must  recollect,  as  did  the  Cardinal  Do  Retz  at 
Vincennes,  that  asparagus  takes  three  years  to  come 
to  the  beginnings  of  perfection.  Ours,  seeded  down 
after  the  Shaker  fashion,  promise  to  be  invaluable. 
They  grew  so  nobly  the  first  year  that  the  haulm 
was  almost  worth  mowing,  like  the  fondly-prized 
down  on  the  chin  of  sixteen.  Then,  what  majestic 
palmleaf  rhubarb,  and  what  egg-plants  !  Nobody 
can  deny  that  our  soil  amply  repays  whatever 
trouble  we  may  bestow  upon  it.  Even  on  the  first 
turning  up,  it  furnishes  you  with  all  the  humbler 
luxuries  in  the  vegetable  way,  from  the  earliest  pea 
to  the  most  delicate  cauliflower,  and  the  golden 
pumpkin,  larger  than  Cinderella's  grandmother  ever 
-  saw  in  her  dreams.  Enrich  it  properly,  and  you 
need  lack  nothing  that  will  grow  north  of  Charles 
ton. 

Melons,  which  attain  a  delicious  perfection  in  our 
rich  sandy  loam,  are  no  despicable  substitute  for  the 
peaches  of  the  older  world;  at  least  during  the  six 
or  seven  summers  that  must  elapse  before  the  latter 
can  be  abundant.  I  advise  a  prodigious  melon- 
patch. 

A  fruit,  sometimes  despised  elsewhere,  is  here 
among  the  highly-prized  treasures  of  the  summer. 
The  whortleberry  of  Michigan  is  a  different  affair 
from  the  little  half-starved  thing  which  bears  the 
name  elsewhere.  It  is  of  a  deep  rich  blue,  some 
thing  near  the  size  of  a  rifle  bullet,  and  of  a  delicious 
sweetness.  The  Indians  bring  in  immense  quanti 
ties  slung  in  panniers  or  mococks  of  bark  on  the 
sides  of  their  wild-looking  ponies  ;  a  squaw,  with 
any  quantity  of  pappooses,  usually  riJiug  Vespagn- 
ole  on  the  ridge  between  them. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  127 

'Schwap?  Nappanee?'  is  the  question  of  the 
queen  of  the  forest ;  which  means,  '  will  you  ex 
change,  or  swap,  for  flour:1  and  you  take  the 
whortleberries  in  whatever  vessel  you  choose,  re 
turning  the  same  measured  quantity  of  flour. 

The  spirit  in  which  the  indians  buy  and  sell  is 
much  the  same  now  as  in  the  days  of  the  renowned 
Wouter  Van  Twiller,  when  '  the  hand  of  a  Dutch 
man  weighed  a  pound,  and  his  foot  two  pounds.7 
The  largest  haunch  of  venison  goes  for  two  fingers, 
viz.  twenty-five  cents,  and  an  entire  deer  for  one 
hand,  one  dollar.  Wild  strawberries  of  rare  size  and 
flavor,  '  schwap-nappanee,'  which  always  means 
equal  quantities.  A  pony,  whatever  be  his  age  or 
qualities,  two  hands  held  up  twice,  with  the  fingers 
extended,  twenty  dollars.  If  you  add  to  the  price 
an  old  garment,  or  a  blanket,  or  a  string  of  glass 
beads,  the  treasure  is  at  once  put  on  and  worn  with 
such  an  air  of  'look  at  me'  !  Broadway  could 
hardly  exceed  it. 

The  Indians  bring  in  cranberries  too ;  and  here 
again  Michigan  excels.  The  wild  plum,  so  little 
prized  elsewhere,  is  valued  where  its  civilized  name 
sake  is  unattainable  ;  and  the  assertion  frequently 
made,  that  '  it  makes  excellent  saasej  is  undeniably 
true.  But  grapes  !  One  must  see  the  loads  of 
grapes  in  order  to  believe. 

The  practical  conclusion  1  wish  to  draw  from  all 
this  wandering  talk  is,  that  it  is  well  wrorth  while  to 
make  a  garden  in  Michigan.  1  hope  my  reader  will 
not  be  disposed  to  reply  in  that  terse  and  forceful 
style  which  is  cultivated  at  Montacute,  and  v.  hicb 
has  more  than  once  been  employed  in  answer  to  my 
enthusiastic  lectures  on  this  subject :  {  Taters  grows 
in  the  field,  and  taters  is  good  enough  for  me.' 


128  A     NEW 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Les  homines    ne  vivrasent    pas  Jong-terns  en  soci6te,   s'iis   n'etaient    pa* 
les  dapes  les  uns  des  autre*. 

LA    RoCHEFOUCAULT. 


I  HAVE  not  said  a  single  word  as  yet  of  our 
neighbor  Tinkerville  ;  a  village  whose  rising  for 
tunes  have  given  occasion  for  more  discussion  in  the 
select  circles  of  Montacute  than  any  thing  but  the 
plan  of  the  new  school-house.  1  know  this  ram 
bling  gossiping  style,  this  going  back  to  take  up 
dropped  stitches,  is  not  the  orthodox  way  of  telling 
one's  story  ;  and  if  I  thought  I  could  do  any  bolter, 
I  would  certainly  go  back  and  begin  at  the  very  be 
ginning  ;  but  I  feel  conscious  that  the  truly  femi 
nine  sin  of  talking  *  about  it  and  about  it,'  the 
unconquerable  partiality  for  wandering  wordiness 
would  cleave  to  me  still  ;  so  I  proceed  in  despair  of 
improvement  to  touch  upon  such  points  in  the  his 
tory  of  Tinkerville  as  have  seemed  of  vital  and  ab 
sorbing  interest  to  the  citizens  of  Montacute. 

Tinkerville  was  originally  one  of  the  many  spec 
ulations  of  the  enterprising  Mr  Mazard,  and  it  dif 
fered  from  most  of  his  landed  property,  in  having 
been  purchased  at  second  hand.  This  fact  was  of 
ten  mentioned  in  his  proffers  of  sale,  as  a  reason 
why  the  tract  could  not  be  afforded  quite  so  low  as 
was  his  general  practice.  He  omitted  to  state^  that 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  129 

he  bought  of  a  person  who,  having  purchased  at  the 
land-office  without  viewing,  was  so  entirely  discoura 
ged  when  he  saw  the  woody  swamp  in  which  he 
was  to  pitch  his  tent,  that  he  was  glad  to  sell  out  to 
our  speculator  at  a  large  discount,  and  try  elsewhere 
on  the  old  and  sound  principle  of  '  look  before  you 
leap.'  The  tract  contained,  as  Mr  Hazard's  adver 
tisement  fairly  set  forth,  '  almost  every  variety  of 
land'  ;  and,  as  he  did  not  say  which  kind  predomi 
nated,  nobody  could  complain  if  imagination  played 
tricks,  as  is  sometimes  the  case  in  land  purchases. 

An  old  gentleman  of  some  property  in  Massachu 
setts  became  the  fortunate  owner  of  the  emblazoned 
chart,  which  MrMazard  had  caused  to  set  forth  the 
advantages  of  his  choice  location.  There  were 
canals  and  railroads,  with  boats  and  cars  at  full 
speed.  There  was  a  steam-mill,  a  wind-mill  or 
two  ;  for  even  a  landshark  did  not  dare  to  put  a 
stream  whese  there  was  scarce  running  water  for 
the  cattle  ;  and  a  .state-road,  which  had  at  least 
been  talked  of,  and  a  court-house  and  other  county 
buildings,  '  all  very  grand  ;'  for,  as  the  spot  was 
not  more  than  ten  miles  from  the  centre  of  the  coun 
ty,  it  might  some  day  become  the  county-sent.  Be 
sides  all  this,  there  was  a  large  and  elegantly  deco 
rated  space  for  the  name  of  the  happy  purchaser,  if 
he  chose  thus  to  dignify  his  future  capital. 

Mr  Tinker  was  easily  persuaded  that  the  cher 
ished  surname  of  his  ancestors  would  blend  most 
musically  with  the  modern  and  very  genteel  termi 
nation  in  which  so  many  of  our  western  villages 
glory  ;  so  Tinkerville  was  appointed  to  fill  the 
trump  of  fame  and  the  blank  on  the  chart  ;  and 
Mr  Mazard,  furnished  with  full  powers,  took  out  the 
12* 


130  A     NEW     HOME, 

charter,  staked  out  the  streets,  where  he  could  get  at 
them,  and  peddled  out  the  lots,  and  laid  out  the 
money,  all  very  much  to  his  own  satisfaction  ;  Mr 
Tinker  rejoicing  that  he  had  happened  to  obtain  so 
'  enterprising '  an  agent. 

We  are  not  informed  what  were  the  internal  sen 
sations  of  the  lot-holders,  when  they  brought  their 
families,  and  came  to  take  possession  of  their  various 
'  stands  for  business.'  They  were  wise  men  ;  and 
having  no  money  to  carry  them  back,  they  set  about 
making  the  best  of  what  they  could  find.  And  it  is 
to  be  doubted  whether  Mr  Mazard's  multifarious 
avocations  permitted  him  to  visit  Tinkerville  after 
the  settlers  began  to  come  in.  Many  of  them  ex 
pressed  themselves  quite  satisfied  that  there  \vas 
abundance  of  water  there  to  duck  a  land-shark,  if 
they  could  catch  him  near  it  ;  and  Mr  Mazard  was 
a  wise  man  too. 

While  the  little  settlement  was  gradually  increas 
ing,  and  a  store  had  been,  as  we  were  told,  added 
to  its  many  advantages  and  attractions,  we  heard 
that  the  padroon  of  Tinkerville  had  sold  out  ;  but 
whether  from  the  fear  that  the  income  from  his 
Michigan  property  would  scarce  become  tangible 
before  his  great  grandson's  time,  or  whether  some 
Bangor  Mr.  Mazard  had  offered  him  a  tempting 
bargain  nearer  home,  remains  to  us  unknown.  It 
was  enough  for  Montacute  to  discover  that  (he  new 
owners  were  '  enterprising  men.'  This  put  us  all 
upon  the  alert. 

The  Tinkervillians,  who  were  obliged  to  come  to 
us  for  grinding  until  their  windmills  could  be  erect 
ed,  talked  much  of  a  new  hotel,  a  school-house,  and 
a  tannery  ;  all  which,  they  averred,  were  '  going 
up '  immediately.  They  turned  up  their  noses  at 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  131 

our  squint-eyed  '  Montacute  house, '  expressing 
themselves  certain  of  getting  the  county  honors,  and 
ended  by  trying  to  entice  away  our  blacksmith. 
But  our  Mr  Porter,  who  {  had  a  soul  above  buttons,' 
scorned  their  arts,  and  would  none  of  their  counsel. 
Mr  Simeon  Jenkins  did,  I  fear,  favorably  incline  to 
their  side  ;  but  on  its  being  whispered  to  him  that 
Montacute  had  determined  upon  employing  a  sing 
ing-master  next  winter  ;  he  informed  the  ambassa 
dors,  who  were  no  doubt  spies  in  disguise,  that  he 
would  never  be  so  selfish  as  to  prefer  his  own  interest 
to  the  public  good.  No  one.  thought  of  analyzing 
so  patriotic  a  sentiment,  or  it  might  have  been  doubt 
ed  whether  Mr  Jenkins  sacrificed  much  in  remain 
ing  to  exercise  his  many  trades,  where  there  was 
twice  as  many  people  to  profit  by  them  as  he  would 
find  at  Tinkerville. 


132  A     NEW     HOME, 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Ignorance  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  human  knowledge,  and  tho  deeper  we 
penetrate,  the  nearer  we  arrive  unto  it. — LACON. 


MRS  RIVERS  and  I  had  long  been  planning  a 
ride  on  horseback  ;  and  when  the  good  stars  were 
in  conjunction,  so  that  two  horses  and  two  saddles 
were  to  be  had  at  one  time,  we  determined  to  wend 
our  resolute  way  as  far  as  Tinkerville,  to  judge  for 
ourselves  of  the  state  of  the  enemy's  preparations. 
We  set  out. soon  after  breakfast,  in  high  style  ;  my 
Eclipse  being  Mr  Jenkins's  old  Governor,  seventeen 
last  grass  ;  and  my  fair  companion's  a  twenty-dollar 
Indian  pony,  age  undecided — men's  saddles  of 
course,  for  the  settlement  boasts  no  other  as  yet  ; 
and,  by  way  of  luxury,  a  large  long-wooled  sheep 
skin  strapped  over  each. 

We  jogged  on  charmingly,  now  through  woods 
cool  and  moist  as  the  grotto  of  Undine,  and  carpeted 
every  where  with  strawberry  vines  and  thousands 
of  flowers  ;  now  across  strips  of  open  land  where 
you  could  look  through  the  straight-stemmed  and 


FOLLOW?  133 

scattered  groves  for  miles  on  each  side.  A  marsh 
or  two  were  to  be  passed,  so  said  our  most  minute 
directions,  and  then  we  should  come  to  the  trail 
through  deep  woods,  which  would  lead  us  in  a 
short  time  to  the  emerging  glories  of  our  boast 
ful  neighbor. 

We  found  the  marshes,  without  difficulty,  and 
soon  afterwards  the  trail,  and  D'Orsay's  joyous  bark, 
as  he  ran  far  before  us,  told  that  he  had  made  some 
discovery.  '  Deer,  perhaps,'  said  I.  It  was  only  an 
Indian,  and  when  I  stopped  and  tried  to  inquire 
whether  we  were  in  the  right  track,  he  could  not  be 
made  to  understand,  but  made  the  usual  assenting 
grunt  and  passed  on. 

When  J  turned  to  speak  to  my  companion  she 
was  so  ashy  pale  that  I  feared  she  must  fall  from 
her  horse. 

'  What  is  the  matter,  my  dearest  madam  !'  said 
I,  going  as  near  as  I  could  coax  old  Governor. 

1  The  Indian  !  the  Indian  !'  was  all  she  could 
utter.  I  was  terribly  puzzled.  It  had  never  occur 
red  to  me  that  the  Indians  would  naturally  be  ob 
jects  of  terror  to  a  young  lady  who  had  scarcely 
ever  seen  one  ;  and  I  knew  we  should  probably 
meet  dozens  of  them  in  the  course  of  our  short 
ride. 

I  said  all  I  could,  and  she  tried  her  best  to  seem 
courageous,  and,  after  she  had  rallied  her  spirits  a 
little,  we  proceeded,  thinking  the  end  of  our  journey 
could  not  be  distant,  especially  as  we  saw  several 
log  houses  at  intervals  which  we  supposed  were  the 
outskirts  of  Tinkerville. 

But  we  we're  disappointed  in  this  ;  for  the  road 
led  through  a  marsh,  and  then  through  woods 
again,  and  such  tangled  woods,  that  I  began  to  fear, 


134  A     NEW     HOME, 

in  my  secret  soul,  that  we  had  wandered  far  from 
our  track,  betrayed  by  D'Orsay's  frolics. 

1  was  at  length  constrained  to  hint  to  my  pale 
companion  my  misgivings,  and  to  propose  a  return 
to  the  nearest  log  hut  for  information.  Without  a 
word  she  wheeled  her  shaggy  pony,  and,  in  a  few 
minutes,  we  found  ourselves  at  the  bars  belonging 
to  the  last  log  house  we  had  passed. 

A  wretched  looking  woman  was  washing  at  the 
door. 

*  Can  you  tell  us  which  is  the  road  to  Tinker- 
ville  ?' 

'  Well,  I  guess  you  can't  miss  it  if  you  follow 
your  own  tracks.  It  a'n't  long  since  you  came 
through  it.  That  big  stump  is  the  middle  of  the* 
public  square,' 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  135 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

I  boast  no  song  in  magic  numbers  rife, 

But  yet,  oh  nature  !    is  there  nought  to  prize 

Familiar  in  thy  bosom  scenes  of  life  ? 

And  dwells  in  day-light  truth's  salubrious  skies 

No  form  with  which  the  soul  may  sympathize  ? 


CAMPBELL, 


WE  returned  by  a  different  and  less  lonely  route, 
the  Tinkervillians  having  very  civilly  directed  us  to 
one  on  which  we  should  not  at  any  point  be  far 
distant  from  a  dwelling.  The  single  Indian  we 
had  encountered  in  the  morning  had  been  quite  suf 
ficient  to  spoil  Mrs  Rivers'  ride  ;  and  we  hurried  on 
at  the  best  pace  of  our  sober  steeds. 

The  country  through  which  we  were  passing  was 
so  really  lovely  that  even  my  timid  little  friend  for 
got  her  fears  at  times  and  exclaimed  like  a  very 
enthusiast.  At  least  two  small  lakes  lay  near  our 
way  ;  and  these,  of  winding  outline  and  most  daz 
zling  brightness,  seemed,  as  w£  espied  them  now 
and  then  through  the  arched  vistas  of  the  deep 
woods,  multiplied  to  a  dozen  or  more.  We  saw 
grape-vines  which  had  so  embraced  large  trees  that 
the  long  waving  pennons  flared  over  their  very 
tops  ;  while  the  lower  branches  of  the  sturdy  oaks 
were  one  undistinguishable  mass  of  light-green 
foliage  without  an  inch  of  bark  to  be  seen.  The 
roadside  was  piled  with  an  exaggerated  velvet  with 


136  A     NEW     II  O  M  E  j 

exquisitely  beautiful  ferns  of  almost  every  variety  ; 
arid  some  open  spots  gleamed  scarlet  with  those 
wild  strawberries  so  abundant  with  us,  and  which 
might  challenge  the  world  for  flavor. 

Birds  of  every  variety  of  song  and  hue  were  not 
wanting,  nor  the  lively  squirrel,  that  most  joyous  of 
nature's  pensioners  ;  and  it  cost  us  some  little  care 
to  keep  D'Orsay  in  his  post  of  honor  as  sole  escort 
through  these  lonely  passes.  But  alack  !  '  'twas 
ever  thus  ! '  We  had  scarcely  sauntered  two  miles 
when  a  scattered  drop  or  two  foretold  that  we  were 
probably  to  try  the  melting  rnood.  We  had  not 
noticed  a  cloud,  but  thus  warned  we  saw  portentous 
gatherings  of  these  bugbears  of  life. 

Now  if  our  ponies  would  only  have  gone  a  little 
faster  !  But  they  would  not,  so  we  were  wet  to  the 
skin — travelling  jets  d1  eau — looking  doubtless  very 
much  like  the  western  settler  taking  his  stirrup-cup 
in  one  of  Mrs  Trollope's  true  pictures. 

When  we  could  be  no  farther  soaked  we  reached 
a  farm-house — not  a  Michigan  farm-house,  but  a 
great,  noble,  yankee  '  palace  of  pine-boards,'  look 
ing  like  a  caritle  of  Massachusetts  or  Western  New- 
york  dropped,  par  hazard^  in  these  remote  wilds. 
To  me,  who  had  for  a  long  while  seen  nothing  of 
dwelling  kind  larger  than  a  good  sized  chicken- 
coop,  the  scene  was 'quite  one  of  Eastern  enchant 
ment.  A  large  barn  with  shed  and  stables,  and 
poultry-yard  and  all  !  Fields  of  grain,  well  fenced 
and  stumpless,  .surrounded  this  happy  dwelling  ; 
and  a  most  inviting  door-yard,  filled  to  profusion 
with  shrubs  and  flowers,  seemed  to  invite  our  en 
trance. 

1  A  honey-suckle  !  absolutely  a  honey-suckle  on 
the  porch  !'  Mrs  Rivers  was  almost  too  forlorn  to 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  137 

sympathize  with  me  :  but  then  she  had  not  been 
quite  so  long  from  home.  I  have  been  troubled 
with  a  sort  of  home  calenture  at  times  since  we 
removed  westward. 

As  we  were  about  to  dismount,  the  sun  shone  out 
most  provokingly  :  and  I  was  afraid  there  would  be 
scarce  the  shadow  of  an  excuse  for  a  visit  to  the  in 
teresting  inmates,  for  such  I  had  decided  they  must 
be,  of  this  delicious  home-like  spot  ;  but,  as  we  wa 
vered,  a  young  man,  as  wet  as  ourselves,  came  up 
the  road,  and,  opening  the  gate  at  once,  invited  us 
to  enter  and  dry  our  dripping  garments. 

We  stayed  not  for  urging,  but  turned  our  grace 
less  steeds  into  the  shady  lane,  and  dismounting,  not 
at  the  front  entrance,  but,  a  la  Michigan,  at  the 
kitchen  door,  we  were  received  with  much  grave 
but  cordial  politeness  by  the  comely  mistress  of  the 
mansion,  who  was  sharing  with  her  pretty  daugh 
ter  the  after-dinner  cares  of  the  day.  Our  upper 
garments  were  spread  to  dry,  and  when  we  were 
equipped,  with  urgent  hospitality,  in  others  belong 
ing  to  our  hostesses,  we  were  ushered  into  the  parlor 
or  '  keeping  room.' 

Here,  writing  at  an  old-fashioned  secretary,  sat 
the  master  of  the  house,  a  hearty,  cheerful-looking, 
middle-aged  man  ;  evidently  a  person  of  less  refine 
ment  than  his  wife,  but  still  of  a  most  prepossessing 
exterior.  He  fell  no  whit  behind  in  doing  the  hon 
ors,  and  we  soon  found  ourselves  quite  at  ease.  We 
recounted  the  adventures  of  our  tiny  journey,  and 
laughed  at  our  unlucky  over-running  of  the  game. 

1  Ah  !  Tinkeiville  !  yes,  1  think  it  will  be  some 
time  yet  before  those  dreams  will  come  to  pass.  I 
13 


13S  A      NEW     HOME, 

have  fold  Mr  Jephson    there    was  nothing    there  to 
make  a  village  oul  of.' 

1  You  are  acquainted  then  with  the  present  pro 
prietors  V 

1  With  one  of  them  I  have  been  acquainted  since 

we  were  boys  ;    and  he  lias   been   a  speculator    all 

that  time,  and  is  now  at  least  as  poor  as  ever.      He 

has  been  very  urgent  with   me  to  sell  out  here  and 

locate  in  his  village,  as  he  calls  it  ;    but  we   knew 

I  rather  too  much  of  him   at  home  for  that,'   and  he 

I  glanced   at  his  fair  spouse  with   some  arcbness.       I 

could  scarcely  believe  that  any  man  could  have  been 

impudent  enough  to  propose  such  an  exchange,  but 

nothing  is  incredible  in  Michigan. 

Mrs  Beck  worth  was  now  engaged  in  getting  tea, 
in  spite  of  our  hollow-hearted  declarations  that  we 
did  not  wish  it.  With  us,  be  it  known  to  new 
comers,  whatever  be  the  hour  of  the  day,  a  cup  of 
tea,  with  trimmings,  is  always  in  season  ;  and  is 
considered  as  the  orthodox  mode  of  welcoming  any 
guest,  from  the  clergyman  to  '  the  maid  that  does 
the  meanest  chores.'  We  were  soon  seated  at  a  del 
icately  furnished  table. 

The  countenance  of  the  good  lady  had  something 
of  peculiar  interest  for  me.  It  was  mild,  intelligent, 
and  very  pleasing.  No  envious  silver  streaked  the 
rich  brown  locks  which  were  folded  with  no  little 
elegance  above  the  fair  brow.  A  slight  depression 
of  the  outer  extremity  of  the  eyelid,  and  of  the  deli 
cately  pencilled  arch  above  it,  seemed  to  tell  of  sor 
row  and  meek  endurance.  I  was  sure  that  like  so 
many  western  settlers,  the  fair  and  pensive  matron 
had  a  story  ;  and  when  I  had  once  arrived  at  this 
conclusion,  I  determined  to  make  a  brave  push  to 
ascertain  the  truth  of  my  conjecture. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  139 

I  began,  while  Mrs  Beckworth  was  absent  from 
the  parlor,  by  telling  every  thing  I  could  think  of  ; 
this  being  the  established  mode  of  getting  knowl 
edge  in  this  country.  Mr.  Beckworth  did  not  bite. 

'  Is  this  young  lady  your  daughter,  Mr  Beck- 
worth  ?' 

'  A  daughter  of  my  wife's — Mary  Jane  Harring 
ton  !' 

'  Oh  !  ah  !  a  former  marriage  ;  and  the  fine 
young  man  who  brought  us  into  such  good  quarters 
is  a  brother  of  Miss  Harrington  I  am  sure.' 

1  A  hulf  brother— Charles  Boon.' 

1  Mrs  Beckworth  thrice  married  !  impossible  !' 
was  my  not  very  civil  but  quite  natural  exclamation. 

Our  host  smiled  quietly,  a  smile  which  enticed 
me  still  further.  He  was,  fortunately  for  my  repu 
tation  for  civility,  too  kindly  •  olite  net  to  consent  to 
gratify  my  curiosity,  which  I  told  him  sincerely  had 
been  awakened  by  the  charming  countenance  of  his 
wife,  who  was  evidently  the  object  of  his  highest 
admiration. 

As  we  rode  through  the  freshened  woods  with 
Mr  Beckworth,  who  had,  with  ready  politeness,  of 
fered  to  see  us  s  »fely  a  part  of  the  way,  he  gave  us 
the  particulars  of  his  early  history  ;  and  to  establish 
my  claim  to  the  character  of  a  physiognomist,  I 
shall  here  recount  what  he  told  me  ;  and,  as  I  can 
not  recollect  his  words,  1  must  give  this  romance  of 
rustic  life  in  my  own,  tuk.ng  a  new  chapter  for  it. 


140 


A     N  E  W      II  O  M  E, 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Sudden  partings,  such  as  press 

The  life  from  out  young  hearts;   and  choking  sighs: 
Which  ne'er  might  be  repeated,  who  could  guess 

If  ever  more  should  meet  those  mutual  eyes 

BYRON* 

HENRY  BECKWORTH,  the  eldest  son  of  a  Massa 
chusetts  farmer,  of  small  means  and  many  mouths, 
was  glad  to  accept  a  situation  as  clerk  in  the  com 
prehensive  '  variety  store'  of  his  cousin,  Ellis  Irving, 
who  was  called  a  great  merchant  in  the  neighboring 
town  of  Langton.  This  cousin  Ellis  had  fallen  into 
the  dangerous  and  not  very  usual  predicament  of 
having  every  body's  good  word  ;  and  it  was  not  un 
til  he  had  failed  in  business,  that  any  one  discovered 
that  he  had  a  fault  in  the  world. 

While  he  was  yet  in  his  heyday,  and  before  the 
world  knew  that  he  had  been  so  good  natured  as  to 
endorse  for  his  wife's  harurnscarum  brother,  his 
clerk,  Henry  Beckworth,  had  never  dared  to  ac 
knowledge,  even  in  his  dreams,  that  he  loved  to 
very  dizziness  his  sweet  cousin  Agnes  Irving.  But 
when  mortification  and  apop'exy  had  done  their 
work  upon  Mr  Irving,  and  his  delicate  wife  had  as 
certained  that  the  remnant  of  her  days  must  pass  in 
absolute  poverty,  dependent  for  food  and  raiment 
upon  her  daughter's  needle,  Henry  found  his  wits 
and  his  tongue,  and  made  so  good  use  of  both,  that, 
ere  long,  his  cousin  Agnes  did  not  deny  that  she 
liked  him  very  well. 


FOLLOW?  141 

Now  young  ladies  who  have  been  at  boarding 
school  and  learned  to  paint  water-melons  in  water 
colors,  and  work  Rebecca  at  the  well  in  chenille  and 
gold  thread,  find  real,  thrifty,  housewifely  sewing1, 
very  slow  and  hard  work,  to  earn  even  bread  and 
salt  by  ;  but  the  dove-eyed  Agnes  had  been  the. 
sole  care  and  pride  of  a  genuine  New-England  house 
wife,  who  could  make  hard  gingerbread  as  well  as 
soft,  and  who  had  plumed  herself  on  being  able  to 
put  every  stitch  into  six  fine  shirts  between  Sunday 
evening  and  Saturday  night.  And  so  the  fair  child, 
though  delicately  bred,  earned  her  mother's  living 
and  her  own,  with  cheerful  and  ungrudging  indus 
try  ;  and  Henry  sent  all  the  surplus  of  his  clerkly 
gains  to  his  father,  who  sometimes  found  the  cry  of 
'  crowdie,  crowdie,  a'  the  day,'  rather  difficult  to 
pacify. 

But  by-and-by,  Mrs  Irving  became  so  feeble 
that  Agnes  was  obliged  to  nurse  her  instead  of  ply 
ing  her  skilful  needle  ;  and  then  matters  went  far 
astray,  so  that  after  a  while  the  kind  neighbors 
brought  in  almost  all  that  was  consumed  in  that  sad 
little  household  ;  Henry  Beckvvorth  being  then  out 
of  employ,  and  unable  for  the  time  to  find  any  way 
of  aiding  his  cousin,  save  by  his  personal  services  in 
the  sick  room. 

He  grew  almost  mad  under  his  distress,  and  the 
anxious,  careful  love  which  is  the  nursling  of  pover 
ty,  and  at  length  seeing  IVLrs  Irving's  health  a  little 
amended,  he  gave  a  long,  sad,  farewell  kiss  to  his 
Agnes,  and  left  her  with  an  assurance  that  she 
should  hear  from  him  soon.  He  dared  not  tell  her 
that  he  was  quitting  her  to  go  to  sea,  in  order  that 
he  might  have  immediate  command  of  a  trifling 
sum  which  he  could  devote  to  her  service, 
13* 


142  A     NEW     HOME, 

He  made  his  way  to  the  nearest  sea-port,  secured 
a  berth  before  the  mast  in  a  vessel  about  to  sail  for 
the  East  Indies  ;  and  then  put  into  a  letter  all  the 
love,  and  hope,  and  fear,  and  caution,  and  encour 
agement,  and  resolution,  and  devoted  ness,  that  one 
poor  sheet  could  carry,  giving  the  precious  document 
into  the  care  of  a  Langton  man,  who  was  returning 
'  direct,'  as  he  said,  to  the  spot  where  poor  Henry 
had  left,  his  senses. 

This  said  letter  told  Agnes,  among  other  things/ 
how  and  when  to  draw  on  Messrs -,  for  Hen 
ry's  wages,  which  were  left  subject  to  her  order — 
and  the  lover  went  to  sea,  with  a  heavy  heart  in 
deed,  but  with  a  comforting  security  that  he  had 
done  all  that  poverty  would  let  him,  for  the  idol  of 
his  heart. 

An  East  India  voyage  is  very  long,  and  most 
people  experience  many  a  changing  mood  and  many 
a  wayward  moment  during  its  course  ;  but  Henry 
Heckworth's  heart  beat  as  if  it  would  burst  his  blue 
jacket,  when  he  found  himself  on  shore  again,  and 
thought  of  what  awaited  him  at  Langton. 

He  called  on  Messrs ,  to  ascertain  whether 

any  thing  remained  of  his  pay  and  found  that  every 
dollar  was  untouched.  At  first  this  angered  him  a 
little;  'for,'  as  he  justly  argued,  'if  Agnes  loved  me  as 
I  love  her — but  never  mind!'  This  I  give  as  a  fail- 
specimen  of  his  thoughts  on  his  homeward  journey. 
All  his  contemplations,  however  incoherent  or  wide 
of  the  mark,  came  invariably  to  one  conclusion — 
that  Agnes-  would  surely  be  willing  to  marry 
him,  poor  as  he  was,  rather  than  he  should  go  to 
sea  again. 

It  was  evening,  and  a  very  dull,  lead-colored  eve- 
•ning,    when   the   stage    that   contained    our   lover 


W  H  O  *  L  L     FOLLOW?  143 

stopped  at  the  only  public-house  in  Langton.  The 
True  Blue  Hotel,  kept,  as  the  oval  sign  which 
creaked  by  its  side  informed  the  grateful  public,  by 
Job  Jephson,  (at  this  moment,  J.  Jephson,  Esquire, 
of  Tinkerville,  in  Michigan,)  the  very  Job  Jephson 
to  whose  kindly  care  Henry  had  committed  his  part 
ing  letter.  The  stage  passed  on,  and  Mr  Beckworth 
paced  the  tasselated  floor  of  Mr  Jephson's  bar-room, 
until  the  worthy  proprietor  and  himself  were  left  its 
sole  occupants. 

'  Why,  Henry,  my  boy,  is  that  you  ?  Do  tell ! 
Why  your  hat  was  slouched  over  your  eyes  so,  that 
I  did  not  know  you  !  Why,  man  !  where  on  airth 
have  you  sprung  from  !  ' 

Henry  asked  after  every  body,  and  then  after 
Agnes  Irving  and  her  mother. 

*  Agnes  Irving  ! ' 

{  Dead  ! '  said  Henry,  wildly  enough. 

1  Dead  !  no,  married  to  be  sure  !  three  months 
ago  ;  and  this  very  day  a  week  ago,  her  mother 
was  buried.' 

It  is  really  surprising  how  instantaneously  pride 
comes  to  one's  aid  on  some  occasions.  The  flashing 
thought  of  the  loved  one's  death,  had  been  anguish 
intolerable  and  inconcealable  ;  the  certainty  of  what 
was  far  worse  only  blanched  Henry's  cheek,  and  set 
his  teeth  firmly  together,  while  his  lips  questioned 
on,  and  the  loquacious  host  of  the  True  Blue  pro 
ceeded. 

'Poor  Agnes  saw  hard  times  after  you  went 
away.  She  had  to  give  up  the  house  you  left  her 
in,  and  take  a  room  at  Mr  Truesdell's.  And  then 
Mrs  Irving  did  nothing  but  pine  after  the  comforts 
she  had  lost,  for  her  mind  was  kind  o'  broke  up  by 
trouble,  And  Agnes  tried  to  find  some  other  place 


144  A     NEW     HOME, 

to  board,  because  her  mother  took  such  an  awful 
dislike  to  Mrs  Truesdell ;  but  there  wasn't  nobody 
willing  to  take  them  in,  because  the  old  lady  was  so 
particular.  And  so,  John  Harrington — you  know 
John  ? — made  up  to  her  again,  though  she'd  refused 
him  two  or  three  times  before  ;  and  said  he  loved 
her  better  than  ever,  and  that  he  would  take  her 
mother  home  and  do  for  her  as  if  she  was  his  own. 
Now,  you  see,  the  neighbors  had  got  pretty  much 
tired  of  sending  in  things,  because  they  thought 
Aggy  ought  n't  to  .refuse  such  a  good  offer,  and  so 
after  a  while  John  got  her.  After  all,  the  poor  old 
lady  did  not  seem  to  enjoy  her  new  home,  but  pined 
away  faster  than  ever,  and  said  she  knew  Aggy  sold 
herself  for  her  sake,  but  that  was  only  a  notion  you 
know,  for  John  was  an  excellent  match  for  a 
poor  — 

'  Did  you  give  my  cousin  the  letter  I  handed 
you  ?  '  interrupted  Henry. 

Til  just  tell  you  all  about  that,'  responded  Mr 
Jephson,  complacently  drawing  a  chair  for  Henry, 
and  inviting  him  to  sit,  as  if  for  a  long  story.  '  I'll 
just  tell  you  how  that  was.  When  you  and  I 
parted  that  time,  I  thought  I  was  all  ready  for  a 
start  home  ;  but  there  was  a  chance  turned  up  to 
spekilate  a  little,  and  arter  that  I  went  down  South 
to  trade  away  some  notions,  so  that  when  I  got  back 
to  Langton  it  was  quite  cold  weather,  arid  I  took  off 
my  best  coat  and  laid  it  away,  for  where's  the  use  of 
wearing  good  clothes  under  a  great  coat,  you  know? 
and  there,  to  be  sure  was  your  letter  in  the  pocket  of 
it.  Well,  before  I  found  it  again  Agnes  was  getting 
ready  to  be  married  ;  and,  thinks  1  to  myself,  like 
enough  it's  a  love-letter,  and  might  break  off  the 
match  if  she  got  it,  gals  are  so  foolish  !  so  I  just 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  145 

locked  up  the  letter  and.  said  nothing  to  nobod) 

and  '- there  lay  Mr  Jephson  on  his  bar-roon 

floor. 

Henry  turned  from  the  place  with  some  glimmer 
ing  of  an  intention  to  seek  his  lost  love  and  tell  hei 
all,  but  one  moment's  lapse  cured  this  madness;  so 
he  only  sat  down  and  looked  at  Job,  who  was  pick 
ing  himself  up  and  talking  all  the  while. 

'  Man  alive  !  what  do  you  put  yourself  into  such 
plaguy  passion  for  ?  I  done  it  all  for  the  best ;  and 
as  for  forgetting,  who  does  not  forget  sometimes  ? 
Plague  take  you  i  you've  given  my  back  such  a 
wrench  I  shaVt  be  able  to  go  to  trainin'  to-morrow, 
and  tore  my  pantaloons  besides  ;  and,  arter  all,  you 
may  likely  thank  me  for  it  as  long  as  you  live. 
There's  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  ever  was  caught — 
but  I  swan  !  you're  as  white  as  the  wall,  and  no 
mistake/  and  he  caught  the  poor  soul  as  he  was 
falling  from  his  chair. 

'  Well,  now,  if  this  does  n't  beat  cock-fighting  ! ' 
muttered  he,  as  he  laid  his  insensible  guest  at  full 
length  on  the  floor  and  ran  to  the  bar  for  some 
1  camphire,'  which  he  administered  in  all  haste,  '  to 
take  on  so  about  a  gal  without  a  cent,  but  he  won't 
come  to  after  all,  and  I  shall  have  to  bleed  him  : ' 
saying  which  he  pulled  off  one  sleeve  of  Henry's 
jacket  and  proceeded  in  due  form  to  the  operation. 

'  He  won't  bleed,  I  vow  !  Hang  the  fellow  I  if 
he  dies,  1  shall  be  took  up  for  manslaughter.  Why, 
Harry,  I  say,'  shaking  him  soundly,  and  dragging 
at  his  arm  with  no  gentle  force.  At  last  blood  came 
slowly,  and  Beckworth  became  once  more  conscious 
of  misery,  and  Mr  Jephson's  tongue  set  out  as  if 
fresh  oiled  by  the  relief  of  his  fears  for  his  own 
safety, 


146  A     NEW     HOME, 

1  Now,  Henry,  don't  make  such  a  fool  of  yourself! 
You  always  used  to  be  a  fellow  of  some  sconce. 
What  can't  be  cured  must  be  endured.'  But  as 
Henry's  lips  resumed  their  color,  and  he  raised  him 
self  from  the  floor,  Mr  Jephson's  habitual  prudence 
urged  him  farther  and  farther  from  the  reach  of  the 
well  arm.  '  His  fears  were  groundless,  however,  for 
all  that  Henry  now  wanted  was  to  be  alone,  that  he 
might  weep  like  a  woman. 

*  Promise  me  that  you  will  never  tell  any  one  that 
I  have  been  here  this  night,'  said  he  at  length  ; 
1  this  is  all  I  ask.  Since  Agnes  is  another  man's 
wife,  God  forbid  I  should  wish  my  name  mentioned 
in  her  presence.' 

1  Why,  law  !  I'll  promise  that,  to  be  sure  ;  but 
you  should  n't  make  so  much  out  o'  nothing  :  Aggy 
ha's  got  the  best  house  in  town,  and  every  thing 
comfortable  ;  and  it  a'n't  no  ways  likely  she  would 
fret  after  you?  And  with  this  comforting  assur 
ance  Henry  prepared  for  departure. 

'  I  say,  Beckworth  ! '  said  Mr  Jephson  as  his 
guest  left  the  room  with  his  valise  ;  '  I  shan't  charge 
you  anything  for  the  bleeding,' 


H  O  '  L  L     P  O  L  L  O  W  ?  1 47 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Now  I  will  believe 

That  there  are  unicorns  ;    that  in  Arabia 
There  is  one  tree  the  Phoenix'  throne  ;    one  Phoenix 
At  this  hour  reigning  there.     *     *     I'll  believe  both, 
And  what  else  doth  want  credit,  come  to  mo 
And  I'll  be  sworn  'tis  true. 

TEMPEST;, 


THE  windows  of  heaven  were  opened  that  night. 
The  rain  descended  in  sheets  instead  of  drops ;  and 
it  was  only  by  an  occasional  flash  of  paly  lightning 
that  our  unfortunate  was  able  to  find  the  house 
which  he  well  recollected  for  John  Harrington's. 
There  it  was  in  all  its  fresh  whiteness  and  greenness, 
and  its  deep  masses  of  foliage,  and  its  rich  screens  of 
honeysuckle  and  sweetbriar,  meet  residence  for  a 
happy  bridegroom  and  his  new-found  treasure.  The 
upper  half  of  the  parlor  shutters  was  unclosed,  and 
plainly  by  the  clear  bright  lamp-light  could  Henry 
see  the  delicate  papering  of  the  walls,  and  the  pretty 
French  clock  under  its  glass  shade  on  the  mantel 
piece.  Oh  !  for  one  glance  at  the  table,  near  which 
he  felt  sure  Agnes  was  sitting.  Wild  thoughts  of 
the  old  song — 

We  took  but  ae  kiss,  an'  we  tore  ourselves  away, 

Were  coursing  through  his  brain,  and  he  was  de 
liberating  upon  the  chance  that  the  end  window, 
which  looked  on  a  piazza,  might  be  free  from  the 


148  A     NEW     HOME, 

envious  shutter,  when  a  man  ran  against  him  in  the 
dark.  The  next  flash  showed  a  great-coated  figure 
entering  the  pretty  rural  gate  to  the  little  shrubbery  ; 
and  in  another  moment  the  hall  door  opened.  Hen 
ry  saw  the  interior,  light  and  cheerful  ;  and  again 
all  was  dark. 

It  would  have  been  very  wrong  to  set  the  house 
on  fire  and  then  go  and  murder  Job  Jephson  :  and 
as  Henry  could  not  at  the  moment  decide  upon  any 
other  course  of  conduct,  which  would  be  at  all  in 
unison  with  his  feelings,  he  set  out,  a  human  loco 
motive  at  the  top-speed,  in  the  very  teeth  of  the 
storm,  on  his  way  towards  the  sea-port  again.  The 
worse  one  feels,  the  faster  one  travels,  hoping  to  out 
run  sorrow  ;  so  it  did  not  take  Henry  Beckworth 
long  to  reach  a  neighboring  town,  where  he  could 
find  a  stage-coach  ;  and  he  was  far  to  sea  again  in 
the  course  of  a  few  days. 

His  outre-mer  adventures  are  of  no  importance  to 
my  story — how,  as  he  stood  with  two  or  three  mess 
mates,  staring,  like  a  true  Yankee,  at  the  Tower 
of  London,  a  press-gang  seized  them  all,  and  rowed 
them  to  a  vessel  which  lay  off  the  Traitors'  Gate, 
the  Americans  protesting  themselves  such,  and  the 
John  Bulls  laughing  at  them  ;  how,  when  they  got 
on  board  the  man  o'  war,  they  showed  their  protec 
tions,  and  the  officer  of  his  Majesty's  recruiting  ser 
vice  said  he  could  do  nothing  in  the  case  till  the 
ship  returned  from  her  cruize — and  how  the  ship 
did  not  return  from  her  cruize,  but  after  cruizing 
about  for  some  three  years  or  more,  was  taken  by  a 
French  first-rate  and  carried  into  Brest.  All  this  is 
but  little  to  the  purpose.  But  when  Henry  was 
thrown  into  a  French  prison,  his  American  certifi 
cate  procured  his  release  through  the  consul's  good 


FOLLOW?  149 

offices,  and  he  shipped  at  once  for  New- York,  some 
what  weary  of  a  sea  life. 

At  New- York  he  learned  from  a  townsman  whom 
he  met  there  that  Agnes  Harrington  had  been  two 
years  a  widow. 

.'  Is  she  rich  ?  '  asked  Henry.  A  strange  question 
for  a  true  lover. 

'  Rich  ! — Lord  bless  ye  !  John  Harrington  wasn't 
worth  that ;'  snapping  his  fingers  most  expressively. 
'  His  property  was  under  mortgage  to  such  an  ex 
tent,  that  all  it  would  sell  for  wouldn't  clear  it.  His 
widow  and  child  will  not  have  a  cent  after,  old  Hor- 
ner  forecloses,  as  he  is  now  about  doing.  And  Mrs 
Harrington's  health  is  very  poor,  though  to  my 
thinking  she's  prettier  than  ever.' 

Henry's  movements  were  but  little  impeded  by 
baggage,  and  the  journey  to  Langton  was  perform 
ed  in  a  short  time.  Once  more  was  he  set  down  at 
Job  Jephson's  ;  and  there  was  daylight  enough  this 
time  to  see,  besides  the  oval  sign  before  hinted  at, 
which  had  for  years  held  out  hopes  of  '  Entertain 
ment  for  man  and  beast,'  a  legend  over  the  door  in 
great  white  characters,  '  Post  Office.'—'  Good  busi 
ness  for  Job,'  thought  Henry  Beckworth, — a  board 
in  one  window  setting  forth,  l  Drugs  and  Medicines,' 
and  a  card  in  the  other,  '  Tailoring  done  here.' 

Slight  salutation  contented  Henry,  when  the  man 
of  letters  made  his  appearance,  and  he  requested  a 
horse  to  carry  him  as  far  as  his  father's,  saying  he 
would  send  for  his  trunk  in  the  morning.  Mr  Jeph- 
son  made  some  little  difficulty  and  delay,  but  Henry 
seemed  in  fiery  haste.  In  truth  he  hated  the  sight 
of  Job  beyond  all  reason  ;  but  that  complacent  per 
sonage  seemed  to  have  forgotten,  very  conveniently, 
all  former  passages  in  that  memorable  bar-room. 
14 


150  A     NEW      HOMEj 

'You  don't  ask  after  your  old  friends,  Harry/ said 
he.  '  A  good  many  things  has  altered  here  since  I 
see  you  last.  You  came  that  time  a  little  too  late.7 

Henry  looked  dirks  at  the  fellow,  but  he  went  on 
as  coldly  as  ever. 

'Now  this  time,  to  my  thinkin,  you've  come  a 
leetle  too  soon.' 

Henry  tried  not  to  ask  him  what  he  meant ;  but 
for  his  life  he  could  not  help  it. 

'  Why,  I  mean,  if  John  Harrington's  widow  has 
not  more  sense  than  I  think  she  has,  you've  come 
in  time  to  spoil  a  good  match.' 

'  A  match  ! '  was  all  Henry  could  say. 

'Aye,  a  match;  for  Colonel  Boon  came  from 
there  yesterday,  and  sent  for  old  Horner  here  to  this 
blessed  house,  and  took  up  the  mortgage  on  Har 
rington's  property  ;  and  every  body  knows  he  has 
been  after  Aggy  this  twelvemonth,  offering  to  marry 
her  and  clear  the  property,  and  do  well  by  the  child. 
And  if  there's  a  good  man  on  airth,  Boon  is  that 
man,  and  every  body  knows  it.' 

What  did  Henry  Beck  worth  now  ?  He  unorder 
ed  his  horse,  and  went  quietly  to  bed. 


FOLLOW?  151 


'CHAPTER  XXVI. 


"There  are  thoughts  that  our  burden  can  lighten, 
Though  toilsome  and  steep  be  the  way, 

And  dreams  that  H'ke  moonlight  can  brighten 
With  a  lustre  far  clearer  than  day. 


Love  nursed  amid  pleasures  is  faithless  as  they, 
TBut  the  love  bern  of  sorrow,  like  sorrow  is 'true. 

MOORE* 

HENRY  BECK  WORTH  came  from  the  hand  of 
Nature  abundantly  furnished  with  that  excellent 
qualification  known  and  revered  throughout  New- 
England,  under  the  expressive  .name  of  'spunk,' 
This  quality  at  first  prompted  him,  spite  of  the 
croakings  of  the  ill-omened  Job,  to  present  himself 
before  the  one  only  object  of  his  constant  soul,  to  tell 
her  all,  and  to  ask  her  to  share  with  him  the  weal 
or  woe  which  might  yet  be  in  store  for  him.  But 
he  had  now  seen  a  good  deal  of  this  excellent  world, 
and  the  very  indifferent  people  who  transact  its  af 
fairs.  He  had  tasted  the  tender  mercies  of  a  British 
man  o'  war,  and  the  various  agremens  of  a  French 
prison ;  and  the  practical  conclusion  which  had 
gradually  possessed  itself  of  his  mind,  was,  that 
money  is,  beyond  all  dispute;  one  of  the  necessaries 
oflifit 


152 


A      NEW     HOME, 


i; 


No  way  of  making  money  off-hand  occurred  to 
him  as  he  tossed  and  groaned  through  the  endless 
hours  of  that  weary  night.  He  had  neither  house 
nor  land,  nor  yet  a  lottery  ticket — nor  a  place  under 
government — and  the  chest  which  stood  at  his  bed 
side,  though  it  contained  enough  of  this  world's 
goods  to  keep  his  fair  proportions  from  the  weather  : 
and  a  sea-journal — a  love-log  —  which  he  hoped 
might  one  day,  by  some  romantic  chance,  come 
into  the  fair  hands  of  his  beloved,  and  give  her  to 
guess  how  his  sad  life  had  passed — held  as  he  well 
knew,  nothing  which  she  could  in  anywise  eat,  or 
that  she  would  be  probably  willing,  under  any  con 
tingency  to  put  on. 

f  1  feel  proud  of  my  hero.  He  was  £  a  man  of 
deeds,  not  words.'  He  loved  Agnes  so  well,  that 
before  morning  shone  on  his  haggard  cheek,  he 
had  determined  to  turn  his  back  forever  on  the 
home  of  his  youth,  the  scene  of  his  first  love-dream ; 
..and  to  seek  his  dark  fortune  far  away  from  the 
'  place  which  held  all  that  his  heart  prized  on  earth. 

This  resolution  once  taken,  he  arose  and  address 
ed  himself  to  his  sad  journey,  waiting  only  the  ear 
liest  beam  of  light  before  he  awakened  Mr  Jephson. 
This  worthy  commended  much  his  prudent  course, 
and  recommended  a  long  voyage  ;  an  attempt  to 
discover  the  North-West  Passage,  or  to  ascertain  the 
truth  of  Captain  Symmes'  theory  ;  to  take  the  non 
sense  out  of  him  and  make  a  little  money. 

For  five  long  years  did  Henry  Beckworth  box  the 
compass  ;  five  years  of  whaling  voyages  and  all 
their  attendant  hardships — and  when  at  the  end  of 
that  time  he  retouched  his  native  shore,  richer  than 
he  had  ever  been  before  in  his  life,  he  heard,  as  the 
reader  will  no  doubt  anticipate,  that  Agnes  Boon 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  153 

was  again  un mated  ;  her  worthy  Colonel  having 
been  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  horse  in  less  than  two 
years  from  his  marriage. 

Yet  did  our  phoenix  of  lovers  approach  the  village 
which  he  had  vowed  never  to  see  again,  with  many 
more  misgivings  than  he  had  experienced  on  former 
occasions.  Years  and  a  rough  life  he  was  well 
aware  had  changed  him  much.  He  thought  of  his 
Agnes,  fair  and  graceful  as  a  snow-drop,  and  feared 
lest  his  weather-beaten  visage  might  find  no  favor  in 
her  eyes.  Yet  he  determined  that  this  time  noth 
ing,  not  even  that  screech-owl  Job  Jephson,  should 
prevent  him  from  seeing  her,  face  to  face,  and  learn 
ing  his  fate  from  her  own  lips. 

He  approached  Langton  by  a  road  that  passed  not 
near  the  detested  house  of  man  and  horse  entertain 
ment,  and  was  just  emerging  from  a  thick  grove 
which  skirted  the  village  on  that  side,  when  he 
came  near  riding  over  a  man  who  seemed  crouched 
on  the  ground  as  if  in  search  of  something,  and 
muttering  to  himself  the  while.  The  face  that 
turned  hastily  round  was  Job  Jephson's. 

c  Why,  it  a'n't !  Yes,  I'll  be  switched  if  it.  isn't 
Harry  Beckworth  rose  from  the  dead  ! '  said  this 
fated  tormenter  ;  and  he  fastened  himself  on  the 
bridle-rein  in  such  sort,  that  Henry  could  not  rid 
himself  of  his  company  without  switching  him  in 
good  earnest. 

'Here  was  I,  lookin  up  some  little  things  for  my 
steam  doctorin  business,'  said  Mr  Jephson,  '  and  little 
thinkin  of  any  body  in  the  world  ;  and  you  must 
come. along  jist  like  a  sperrit.  But  I've  a  notion 
you've  hit  it  about  right  this  time.  I  s'pose  you 
know  Aggy's  a  rich  widow  by  this  time,  don't  ye  ?' 
14* 


154 


A     NEW     HOME, 


Henry  vouchsafed  no  reply,  though  he  found  it 
very  difficult  to  maintain  a  dignified  reserve,  when 
so  many  questions  were  clustering  on  his  lips.  But 
it  was  all  one  to  Job — question  or  no  question, 
answer  or  no  answer,  he  would  talk  on,  and  on,  and 
on. 

Til  tell  ye  what,'  lie  continued,  'I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  Aggy  looked  higher  now7,  for  she's  a  good 
spec  for  any  man.  1  see  you've  smarted  up  a  good 
deal,  but  don't  be  cock-sure — for  there's  others  that 
would  be  glad  to  take  her  and  her  two  children, 
I've  been  a  thin  kin  myself — 

And  now  Henry  gave  Job  such  a  switch  across 
the  knuckles  as  effectually  cleared  the  bridle,  and 
changed  the  current  of  the  steam-doctor's  thoughts. 
In  half  an  hour  he  rang  at  Mrs  Boon's  door,  and 
wTas  ushered  at  once  into  her  presence. 

'  Mr  Beckworth,  ma'am,'  said  the  little  waiting- 
maid  as  she  threw  open  the  parlor  door. 

Agnes,  the  beloved,  rose  from  her  seat— sat  down 
again — tried  to  speak,  and  burst  into  tears  ;  while 
Henry  looked  on  her  countenance — changed  indeed7 
but  still  lovely  in  matronly  dignity — more  fondly 
than  in  the  days  of  his  lighter  youthful  love  ;  and 
seating  himself  beside  her,  began  at  the  wrong  end 
of  the  story,  as  most  people  do  in  such  cases,  talking 
as  if  it  were  a  thing  of  course  that  his  twice-widowed 
love  should  become  his  wife. 

1  Marry  again  !  O,  never  ! ' — that  w7as  entirely  out 
of  the  question  ;  and  she  wiped  her  eyes  and  asked 
her  cousin  to  stay  to  dinner.  But  Henry  deferred 
his  ultimatum  on  this  important  point,  till  he  should 
have  ravelled  out  the  whole  web  of  his  past  life  be 
fore  the  dewy  eyes  of  his  still  fair  mistress,  till  he 
should  tell  her  all  his  love — no,  that  he  could  never 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  155 

fully  tell,  but  some  of  the  proofs  of  it  at  least,  and 
that  first  horrible  forget  of  Job  Jephson's.  And 
when  this  was  told  in  many  words,  Agnes,  all  sighs 
and  tears,  still  said  no,  but  so  much  more  faintly 
that  Mr  Beckworth  thought  he  would  stay  to  dinner. 
And  then — but  why  should  1  tell  the  rest,  when  the 
reader  of  my  true-love  story  has  already  seen  Mrs 
Beckworth  like  a  fair  though  full-blown  china-rose 
— Mr  Beckworth  with  bien  content  written  on  every 
line  of  his  handsome  middle-aged  face — Mary  Jane 
Harrington  a  comely  marriageable  lass,  and  George 
Boon  a  strapping  youth  of  eighteen — all  flourishing 
on  an  oak  opening  in  the  depths  of  Michigan  ? 

Let  none  imagine  that  this  tale  of  man's  constan 
cy  must  be  the  mere  dream  of  my  fancy.  I  ae- 
Knowledge  nothing  but  the  prettinesses.  To  Henry 
Beckworth  himself  I  refer  the  incredulous,  and  if 
they  do  not  recognise  my  story  in  his,  I  cannot  help 
it.  Even  a  woman  can  do  no  more  than  her  best. 


156 


A     NEW     HOME 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Smelling  so  sweetly,   all  musk,   and   so   rushling,  I   warrant  you,  in   silk 
and  gold  ;  and  in  such  alligant  terms. 

SHAKSPEAKE.— Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

Art  thou  not  Romeo,  and  a   Montague  ? 

SHAKSPEAP.E. 

My  brain's  in  a  fever,  my  pulses  beat  quick  ; 
I  shall  die,  or  at  least  be  exceedingly  sick  ! 
O  what  do  you  think!   after  all  my  romancing, 
My  visions  of  glory,  my  sighing,  my  glancing — 

Miss  BIDDY  FUDGE. 


AN  addition  to  our  Montacute  first  circle  had  late 
ly  appeared  in  the  person  of  Miss  Eloise  Fidler,  an 
elder  sister  of  Mrs  Rivers,  who  was  to  spend  some 
months  '  in  this  peaceful  retreat,' — to  borrow  one 
of  her  favorite  expressions. 

This  young  lady  was  not  as  handsome  as  she 
would  fain  have  been,  if  I  may  judge  by  the  cata 
racts    of    ash-colored    ringlets    which   shaded   her 
cheeks,   and  the  exceeding  straitness  of  the  stays 
which  restrained  her   somewhat   exuberant  propor 
tions.     Her  age  was  at  a  stand  ;    but  I  could   never 
discover  exactly  where,  for  this  point  proved  an  ex 
ception  to  the  general  communicativeness  of  her  dis 
position.     I  guessed  it  at  eight-and-twenty  ;  but  per 
haps  she  would  have  judged  this  uncharitable  ;  so 
will  not  insist.    Certain  it  is  that  it  must  have  taken 
/a  good  while  to  read  as  many  novels   and  commit 
i  to  memory  as  much  poetry,  as  lined   the  head  and 
!  exalted  the  sensibilities  of  our  fair  visitant. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  157 

Her  dress  was  in  the  height  .of  fashion,  and  all 
her  accoutrements  point  de  vice.  A  gold  pencil-  / 
case  of  the  most  delicate  proportions  was  suspended  j 
by  a  kindred  chain  round  a  neck  which  might  be 
called  whity-brown  ;  and  a  note-book  of  correspon 
ding  lady-like-ness  was  peeping  from  the  pocket  of 
her  highly-useful  apron  of  blue  silk — ever  ready  to 
secure  a  passing  thought  or  an  elegant  quotation. 
Her  album — she  was  just  the  person  to  have  an  al 
bum — was  resplendent  in  gold  and  satin,  and  the 
verses  which  meandered  over  its  emblazoned  pages 
were  of  the  most  unexceptionable  quality,  overlaid 
with  flowers  and  gems — love  and  despair.  To  find 
any  degree  of  appropriateness  in  these  various  offer 
ings,  one  must  allow  the  fortunate  possessor  of  the 
purple  volume,  at  least  all  the  various  perfections 
of  an  Admirable  Crichton,  allayed  in  soma  small 
measure  by  the  trifling  faults  of  coldness,  fickleness, 
and  deceit  ;  and,  to  judge  of  Miss  Fidler's  friends 
by  their  hand-writing,  they  must  have  been  able  to 
offer  an  edifying  variety  of  bumps  to  the  fingers  of 
the  phrenologist.  But  here  is  the  very  book  itself 
at  my  elbow,  waiting  these  three  months,  I  blush 
to  say,  for  a  contribution  which  has  yet  to  be  purnp- 
ed  up  from  my  unwilling  brains  ;  and  1  have  a 
mind  to  steal  a  few  specimens  from  its  already  load 
ed  pages,  for  the  benefit  of  the  distressed,  who  may, 
like  myself,  be  at  their  wits'  end  for  something  to 
put  in  just  such  a  book. 

The  first  page,  rich  with  embossed  lilies,  bears 
the  invocation,  written  in  a  great  black  spattering 
hand,  and  wearing  the  air  of  a  defiance.  It  runs 
thus  : — 


158  A     NEW     HOME, 

if  among  the  names  of  the  stainless  few 

Thine  own  hath  maintain'd  a  place, 
Come  dip   thy  pen  in  the  sable  dew 

And  with  it  this   volume  grace. 

But  oh  !  if  thy  soul  e'er  encourag'd  a  thought 

Which  purity's  self  might  blame, 
Close  quickly  the  volume.,  and  venture  not 

To  sully  ita  snows  with  thy  name. 

Then  we  come  to  a  wreath  of  flowers  of  gorgeous 
hues,  within  whose  circle  appears  in  a  miminee 
jjiminee  hand,  evidently  a  young  lady's — 

THE    WREATH    OF    SLEEP. 

O  let  me  twine  this  glowing  wreath 

Amid  those  rings  of  golden  hair, 
'Twill  soothe  thee  with  its  odorous  breath 

To  sweet  forgetfulness  of  care. 

'Tis  form'd  of  every  scented  flower 

That  flings  its  fragrance  o'er  the  night  j 
And  gifted  with  a  fairy  power 

To  fill  thy  dreams  with  forms  of  light. 

'Twas   braided  by  an  angel  boy 

When  fresh  from  Paradise  he  came 
To  fill  our  earth-born  hearts  with  joy — 

Ah  !  need  I  tell  the  cherub's  name  ? 


This  contributor  I  have  settled  in  my  own  mind  to 
be  a  descendant  of  Anna  Matilda,  the  high-priestess 
of  the  Delia  Cruscan  order.  The  next  blazon  is  an 
interesting  view  of  a  young  lady,  combing  her  hair. 
As  she  seems  not  to  have  been  long  out  of  bed,  the 
lines  which  follow  are  rather  appropriate,  though  I 
feel  quite  sure  they  come  from  the  expert  fingers  of 
a  merchant's  clerk — from  the  finished  elegance,  and 
very  sweeping  tails  of  the  chirography. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  159 


Awake  !  arise  !  art  thou  slumbering  still  ? 
When  the  sun  is  above  the  mapled  hill, 
And  the  shadows  are  flitting  fast  away, 
And  the  dews  are  diamond  beneath  his  ray, 
And  every  bird  in  our  vine-roofed  bower 
Is  waked  into  song  by  the  joyous  hour  ; 
Come,  banish  sleep  from  thy  gentle  eyes. 
Sister  !  sweet  sister  !  awake  !  arise  ! 

Yet  I  love  to  gaze  on  thy  lids  of  pearl, 
And  to  mark  the  wave  of  the  single  curl 
That  shades  in  its  beauty  thy  brow  of  snow, 
And  the  cheek  that  lies  like  a  rose  below  ; 
And  to  list  to  the  murmuring  notes  that  fall 
From  thy  lips,  like  music  in  fairy  hall. 
But  it  must  not  be — the  sweet  morning  flies 
Ere  thou  hast  enjoyed  it  ;  awake  !  arise  ! 

There  is  balm  on  the  wings  of  this  freshen'd  air  ! 
'Twill  make  thine  eye  brighter,  thy  brow  more  fair, 
And  a  deep,  deep  rose  on  thy  cheek  shall  be 
The  meed  of  an  early  walk  with  me. 
We  will  seek  the  shade  by  the  green  hill  side, 
Or  follow  the  clear  brook's  whispering  tide  ; 
And  brush  the  dew  from  the  violet's  eyes — 
Sister  !  sweet  sister  !  awake  !  arise  ! 

This  I  transcribe  for  the  good  advice  which  it 
contains.  And  what  have  we  here  1  It  is  taste 
fully  headed  by  an  engraving  of  Hero  and  Ursula 
in  the  i  pleached  bower,'  and  Beatrice  running 
'  like  a  lap-wing '  in  the  background.  It  begins 
ominously. 


OH,  look  upon  this  pallid  brow  ! 

Say,  canst  thou  there  discern  one  trace 
Of  that  proud  soul,  which  oft  ere  now 

Tbou'st  sworn   shed  radiance  o'er  my  face  ? 
Chill'd  is  that  soul— its  darling  themes, 

Thy  manly  honor,  virtue,  truth, 


160  A     NEW     HOME, 

Prove  now  to  be  but  fleeting  dreams, 
Like  other  lovely  thoughts  of  youth. 

Meet,  if  thy  coward  spirit  dare, 

This  sunken  eye  ;  say,  dost  thou  see 
The  rays  thou  saidst  were  sparkling  there 

When  first  its  gaze  was  turn'd  on  thee  ? 
That  eye's  young  light  is  quench'd  forever  ; 

No  change  Its  radiance  can  repair  : 
Will  Joy's  keen  touch  relume  it  ?     Never  ! 

It  gleams  the  watch-light  of  Despair. 

I  find  myself  growing  hoarse  by  sympathy,  and 
I  shall  venture  only  a  single  extract  more,  and  this 
because  Miss  Fidler  declares  it,  without  exception, 
the  sweetest  thing  she  ever  read.  It  is  written  with 
a  crow-quill,  and  has  other  marks  of  femininity. 
Its  vignette  is  a  little  girl  and  boy  playing  at 
battledoor. 

BALLAD. 

THE  deadly  strife  was  over,  and  across  the  field  of  fame, 
With  anguish  in  his  haughty  eye,  the  Moor  Almanzor  came  ; 
He  prick'd  his  fiery  courser  on  among  the  scatter'd  dead, 
Till  he  came  at  last  to  what  he  sought,  a  sever'd  human  head. 

It  might  have  seem'd  a  maiden's,  so  pale  it  was,  and  fair  ; 

But  the  lip  and  chin  were  shaded  till  they  match'd  the  raven  hair. 

There  lingered  yet  upon  the  brow  a  spirit  bold  and  high, 

And  the  stroke  of  death  had  scarcely  closed  the  piercing  eagle  eye. 

Almanzor  grasp'd  the  flowing  locks,  and  he  staid  not  in  his  flight, 
Till  he  reach'd  a  lonely  castle's  gate  where  stood  a  lady  bright. 

*  Inez  !  behold  thy  paramour  !'  he  loud  and  sternly  cried, 
And  threw  his  ghastly  burden  down,  close  at  th'e  lady's  side. 

*  I  sought  thy  bower  at  even-tide,  thou  syren,  false  as  fair ! 

'  And,  would  that  I  had  rather  died  !  I  found  yon  stripling  there. 
'  I  turn'd  me  from  the  hated  spot,  but  I  swore  by  yon  dread  Heaven, 
'  To  know  no  rest  until  my  sword  the  traitor's  life  had  riven.' 

The  lady  stood  like  stone  until  he  turn'd  to  ride  away, 
And  then  she  oped  her  marble  lips,  and  wildly  thus  did  say  : 
1  Alas,  alas  !  thou  cruel  Moor,  what  is  it  thou  hast  done  ! 
'  This  was  my  brother  Rodriguez,  my  father's  only  son.' 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  161 

And  then  before  his  frenzied  eyes,  like  a  crush'd  lily  bell, 
Lifeless   upon  the  bleeding  head,  the  gentle  Inez   fell. 
He  drew  his  glittering  ataghan— he  slieath'd  it  in  his  side — 
And  for  his  Spanish  ladye-love  the  Moor  Almanzor  died. 

This  is  not  a  very  novel  incident,  but  young  la 
dies  like  stories  of  love  and  murder,  and  Miss  Fid- 
ler's  tastes  were  peculiarly  young-lady-like.  She 
praised  Ainsworth  and  James,  but  thought  Bulwer's 
works  c  very  immoral,'  tho'  I  could  never  discover  that 
she  had  more  than  skimmed  the  story  from  any  of 
them.  Cooper  she  found  '  pretty  ;'  Miss  Sedgvvick 
'  pretty  well,  only  her  characters  are  such  common 
sort  of  people.' 

Miss  Fidier  wrote  her  own  poetry,  so  that  she 
had  ample  employment  for  her  time  while  with  us 
in  the  woods.  It  was  unfortunate  that  she  could  not 
wralk  out  much  on  account,  of  her  shoes.  She  was 
obliged  to  make  out  with  diluted  inspiration.  The 
nearest  approach  she  usually  made  to  the  study  of 
Nature  \vas  to  sit  on  the  wTood-pile,  under  a  girdled 
tree,  and  there,  with  her  gold  pencil  in  hand,  and  her 
'  eyne,  grey  as  glass,'  rolled  upwards,  poefy  by  the 
hour.  Several  people,  and  especially  one  marriage 
able  lady  of  a  certain  age,  felt  afraid  Miss  Fidier 
was  '  kind  o'  crazy.' 

And,  standing  marvel  of  Montacute,  no  guest  at 
morning  or  night  ever  found  the  fair  Eloise  unglov 
ed.  Think  of  it !  In  the  very  wilds  to  be  al 
ways  like  a  cat  in  nutshells,  alone  useless  where  all 
are  so  busy  !  .  I  do  not  wonder  our  good  neighbors 
thought  the  damsel  a  little  touched.  And  then  her 
shoes!  '  Saint  Crispin  Crispianus  '  never  had  so 
self-sacrificing  a  votary.  No  shoemaker  this  side  of 
New-York  could  make  a  sole  papery  enough  ;  no 
15 


162  A     NEW     HOME, 

tannery  out,  of  France  could  produce  materials  for 
this  piece  of  exquisite  feminine  foppery.  Eternal 
imprisonment  within  doors,  except  in  the  warmest 
and  driest  weather,  was  indeed  somewhat  of  a  price 
to  pay,  but  it  was  ungrudged.  The  sofa  and  its 
footstool,  finery  and  novels,  would  have  made  a  de 
licious  world  for  Miss  Eloise  Fidler.  if— 

But,  alas!  'all  this  availeth  me  nothing,'  has  been 
ever  the  song  of  poor  human  nature.  The  mention 
of  that  unfortunate  name  includes  the  only  real,  per 
sonal,  pungent  distress  which  had  as  yet  shaded  the 
lot  of  my  interesting  heroine.  Fidler  !  In  the  mor 
tification  adhering  to  so  unpoetical,  so  unromantic, 
so  inelegant  a  surname — a  name  irredeemable  even 
by  the  highly  classical  elegance  of  the  Eloise,  or  as 
the  fair  lady  herself  pronounced  it,  '  Elovees  ;  '  in 
this  lay  all  her  wo ;  and  the  grand  study  of  her  life 
had  been  to  sink  this  hated  cognomen  in  one  more 
congenial  to  her  taste.  Perhaps  this  very  anxiety 

had  defeated  itself;  at  any  rate,  here  she  was  at 

I  did  not  mean  to  touch  on  the  ungrateful  guess 
again,  but  at  least  at  mateable  years  ;  neither  mar 
ried,  nor  particularly  likely  to  be  married. 

Mrs  Rivers  was  the  object  of  absolute  envy  to  the 
pining  Eloise,  '  Anna  had  been  so  fortunate,'  she 
said  ;  '  Rivers  was  the  sweetest  name  !  and  Harley 
was  such  an  elegant  fellow  ! ' 

We  thought  poor  Anna  had  been  any  thing  but 
fortunate.  She  might  better  have  been  Fidler  or 
Fiddlestring  all  her  life  than  to  have  taken  the 
name  of  an  indifferent  and  dissipated  husband. 
But  not  so  thought  Miss  Fidler.  It  was  not  long 
after  the  arrival  of  the  elegant  Eloise,  that  the 
Mont  acute  Lyceum  held  its  first  meeting  in  Mr 
Simeon  Jenkins's  shop,  lighted  by  three  candles, 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  163 

supported  by  candelabra  of  scooped  potatoes;  Mi- 
Jenkins  himself  sitting  on  the  head  of  a  barrel,  as 
president.  At  first'the  debates  of  the  institute  were 
held  with  closed  doors ;  but  after  the  youthful  or  less 
practised  speakers  had  tried  their  powers  for  a  few 
evenings,  the  Lyceum  was  thrown  open  to  the  world 
every  Tuesday  evening,  at  six  o'clock.  The  list  of 
members  was  not  very  select  as  to  age,  character,  or 
standing ;  and  it  soon  included  the  entire  gentility  of 
the  town,  and  some  who  scarce  claimed  rank  else 
where.  The  attendance  of  the  ladies  was  particu 
larly  requested;  and  the  whole  fair  sex  of  Montacute 
made  a  point  of  showing  occasionally  the  interest 
they  undoubtedly  felt  in  the  gallant  knights  who 
tilted  in  this  field  of  honor. 

But  I  must  not  be  too  diffuse — I  was  speaking 
of  Miss  Fidler,  One  evening — I  hope  that  begin 
ning  prepares  the  reader  for  something  highly  inter 
esting — one  evening  the  question  to  be  debated  was 
the  equally  novel  and  striking  one  which  regards 
the  comparative  mental  capacity  of  the  sexes  ;  and 
as  it  w as  expected  that  some  of  the  best  speakers  on 
both  sides  would  be  drawn  out  by  the  interesting 
nature  of  the  subject,  every  body  was  anxious  to  at 
tend. 

Among  the  rest  was  Miss  Fidler,  much  to  the 
surprise  of  her  sister  and  myself,  who  had  hitherto 
been  so  unfashionable  as  to  deny  ourselves  this 
gratification. 

'  What  new  whim  possesses  you,  Eloise  ? '  said 
Mrs  Rivers ;  '  you  who  never  go  out  in  the  day 
time.' 

{  O,  just  per  passy  le  tong]  said  the  young  lady, 
who  was  a  great  French  scholar ;  and  go  she  would, 
and  did- 


164  A      NEW     HOME, 

The  debate  was  interesting  to  absolute  breathless- 
ness,  both  of  speakers  and  hearers,  and  was  gallant 
ly  decided  in  favor  of  the  fair  b$  a  youthful  member 
who  occupied  the  barrel  as  president  for  the  even 
ing.  He  gave  it  as  his  decided  opinion,  that  if  the 
natural  and  social  disadvantages  under  which  wo 
man  labored  and  must  ever  continue  to  labor,  could 
be  removed  ;  if  their  education  could  be  entirely  dif 
ferent,  and  their  position  in  society  the  reverse  of 
what  it  is  at  present,  they  would  be  very  nearly,  if 
not  quite  equal  to  the  nobler  sex,  in  all  but  strength 
of  mind,  in  which  very  useful  quality  it  was  his 
opinion  that  man  would  still  have  the  advantage, 
especially  in  those  communities  whose  energies  were 
developed  by  the  aid  of  debating  societies. 

This  decision  was  hailed  with  acclamations,  and 
as  soon  as  the  question  for  the  ensuing  debate, 
1  which  is  the  more  useful  animal  the  ox  or  the 
ass?'  was  announced,  Miss  Eloise  Fidler  returned 
home  to  rave  of  the  elegant  young  man  who  sat  on 
the  barrel,  whom  she  had  decided  to  be  one  of  '  Na 
ture's  aristocracy,'  and  whom  she  had  discovered  to 
bear  the  splendid  appellative  of  Dacre.  '  Edward 
Dacre,'  said  she,  l  for  I  heard  the  rude  creature 
Jenkins  call  him  Ed.' 

The  next  morning  witnessed  another  departure 
from  Miss  Fidler's  usual  habits.  She  proposed  a 
walk  ;  and  observed  that  she  had  never  yet  bought 
an  article  at  the  store,  and  really  felt  as  if  she  ought 
to  purchase  something.  Mrs  Rivers  chancing  to  be 
somewhat  occupied,  Miss  Fidler  did  me  the  honor  of 
a  call,  as  she  could  not  think  of  walking  without  a 
chaperon. 

Behind  the  counter  at  Skinner's  T  saw  for  the 
first  time  a  spruce  clerk^  a  really  well-looking  young 


165 

man,  who  made  his  very  best  bow  to  Miss  Fidler, 
and  served  us  with  much  assiduity.  The  young 
lady's  purchases  occupied  some  time,  and  I  was 
obliged  gently  to  hint  home:affairs  before  she  could 
decide  between  two  pieces  of  muslin,  which  she  de 
clared  to  be  so  nearly  alike,  that  it  was  almost  im 
possible  to  say  which  was  the  best. 

When  we  were  at  length  on  our  return,  I  was 
closely  questioned  as  to  my  knowledge  of  l  that 
gentleman,'  and  on  my  observing  that  he  seemed 
to  be  a  very  decent  young  man,  Miss  Fidler  warmly 
justified  him  from  any  such  opinion,  and  after  a 
glowing  eulogium  on  his  firm  countenance,  his  ele 
gant  manners  and  his  grace  as  a  debater,  concluded 
by  informing  me,  as  if  to  cap  the  climax,  that  his 
name  was  Edward  Dacre. 

1  had  thought  no  more  of  the  matter  for  some 
time,  though  1  knew  Mr  Dacre  had  become  a  fre 
quent  visitor  at  Mr  Rivers',  when  Mrs  Rivers  came 
to  me  one  morning  with  a  perplexed  brow,  and  con 
fided  to  rne  her  sisterly  fears  that  Eloise  was  about 
to  make  a  fool  of  herself,  as  she  had  done  more  than 
once  before. 

'  My  father,'  she  said,  c  hoped  in  this  remote  cor 
ner  of  creation  Eloise  might  forget  her  nonsense  and 
act  like  other  people ;  but  1  verily  believe  she  is  bent 
upon  encouraging  this  low  fellow,  whose  principal 
charm  in  her  bewildered  eyes  is  his  name.' 

'His  name?'  said  I,  i  pray  explain;'  for  I  had 
not  then  learned  all  the  boundless  absurdity  of  this 
new  Cherubina's  fancies. 

'  Edward  Dacre  ! '  said  my  friend,  '  this  is  what 
enchants  my  sister,  who  is  absolutely  mad  on  the 
subject  of  her  own  homely  appellation.' 
15* 


166  A     NEW     H  O  M  £  j 

'  0;  is  that  all  ?  5  said  I,  '  send  her  to  me,  then  ', 
and  I  engage  to  dismiss  her  cured.' 

And  Miss  Fidler  came  to  spend  the  day.  We 
talked  of  all  novels  with  out  exception,  and  all  poet 
ry  of  all  magazines,  and  Miss  Fidler  asked  me  if  I 
had  read  the  'Young  Duke.'  Upon  my  confessing1 
as  much,  she  asked  my  opinion  of  the  heroine,  and 
then  if  I  had  ever  heard  so  sweet  a  name.  '  May 
Dacre — May  Dacre/  she  repeated,  as  if  to  solace  her 
delighted  ears. 

'  Only  think  how  such  names  are  murdered  in 
this  country/  said  I,  tossing  carelessly  before  her  an 
account  of  Mr  Skinner,  which  bore  •  Edkins  Da- 
ker '  below  the  receipt.  I  never  saw  a  change  equal 
to  that  which  seemed  to  '  come  o'er  the  spirit  of  her 
dream.'  I  went  on  with  my  citations  of  murdered 
names,  telling  how  Rogers  was  turned  into  Rudgers? 
Conway  into  Coniway,  and  Montague  into  Montaig, 
but  poor  Miss  Fidler  was  no  longer  in  talking  mood  ; 
and,  long  before  the  day  was  out,  she  complained  of 
a  head-ache  and  returned  to  her  sister's.  Mr  Daker 
found  her  '  not  at  home '  that  evening  ;  and  when  I 
called  next  morning,  the  young  lady  was  in  bed, 
steeping  her  long  ringlets  in  tears,  real  tears. 

To  hasten  to  the  catastrophe :  it  was  discovered 
ere  long  that  Mr  Edkins  Daker's  handsome  face 
and  really  pleasant  manners,  had  fairly  vanquished 
Miss  Fidler's  romance,  and  she  had  responded  to  his 
professions  of  attachment  with  a  truth  and  sincerity, 
which,  while  it  vexed  her  family  inexpressibly,  seem 
ed  to  me  to  atone  for  all  her  follies.  Mr  Daker's 
prospects  were  by  no  means  despicable,  since  a  small 
capital  employed  in  merchandize  in  Michigan,  is 
very  apt  to  confer  upon  the  industrious  and  fortu 
nate  possessor  that  crowning  charm,  without  which 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  167 

handsome  faces,  and  even  handsome  names,   are 
quite  worthless  in  our  Western  eyes. 

Some  little  disparity  of  age  existed  between  Miss 
Fidler  and  her  adorer ;  but  this  was  conceded  by  all 
to  be  abundantly  made  up  by  the  superabounding 
gentility  of  the  lady  ;  and  when  Mr  Daker  returned 
from  New- York  with  his  new  stock  of  goods  and 
his  stylish  bride,  I  thought  I  had  seldom  seen  a 
happier  or  better  mated  couple.  And  at  this  pres 
ent  writing,  I  do  not  believe  Eloise,  with  fill  her 
whims,  would  exchange  her  very  nice  Edkins  for 
the  proudest  Dacre  of  the  British  Peerage. 


168 


A     NEW     HOME 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

.fiy  sports  like  these  are  all  their  cares  beguiled, 
/  The  sports  of  children  satisfy  the  child ; 

Each  nobler  aim,  repressed  by  long  control, 
I  Now  sinks  at  last,  or  feebly  mans  the  soul ; 

While  low  delights  succeeding  fast  behind, 

In  happier  meanness  occupy  the  mind. 

GOLDSMITH. — TRAVELLER. 

THERE  is  in  our  vicinity  one  class  of  settlers 
whose  condition  has  always  been  inexplicable  to 
me.  They  seem  to  work  hard,  to  dress  wretchedly, 
and  to  live  in  the  most  uncomfortable  style  in  all 
respects,  apparently  denying  themselves  and  their 
families  every  thing  beyond  the  absolute  necessaries 
of  life.  They  complain  most  bitterly  of  poverty. 
They  perform  the  severe  labor  which  is  shunned  by 
their  neighbors;  they  purchase  the  coarsest  food,  and 
are  not  too  proud  to  ask  for  an  old  coat  or  a  pair  of 
cast  boots,  though  it  is  always  with  the  peculiar  air 
of  dignity  and  *  don't  care,'  which  is  characteristic  of 
the  country. 

Yet  instead  of  increasing  their  means  by  these 
penurious  habits,  they  grow  poorer  every  day. 
Their  dwellings  are  more  and  more  out  of  repair. 
There  are  more  and  more  shingles  in  the  windows, 
old  hats  and  red  petticoats  cannot  be  spared  ;  and 
an  increasing  dearth  of  cows,  pigs,  and  chickens. 
The  daughters  go  to  service,  and  the  sons  '  chore 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  169 

round  '  for  every  body  and  any  body ;  and  e\7en  the 
mamma,  the  centre  of  dignity,  is  fain  to  go  out 
washing  by  the  day. 

A  family  of  this  description  had  fallen  much  un 
der  our  notice.  The  father  and  his  stout  sons  had 
performed  a  good  deal  of  hard  work  in  our  service, 
and  the  females  of  the  family  had  been  employed 
on  many  occasions  when  '  help '  was  scarce.  Many 
requests  for  cast  articles,  or  those  of  trifling  value 
had  been  proffered  during  the  course  of  our  ac 
quaintance  ;  and  in  several  attacks  of  illness,  such 
comforts  as  our  house  afforded  had  been  frequently 
sought,  though  no  visit  was  ever  requested. 

They  had  been  living  through  the  summer  in  a 
shanty,  built  against  a  sloping  bank,  with  a  fire 
place  dug  in  the  hill-side,  and  a  hole  pierced  through 
the  turf  by  way  of  chimney.  In  this  den  of  some 
twelve  feet  square,  the  whole  family  had  burrowed 
since  April ;  but  in  October,  a  log-house  of  the  or 
dinary  size  was  roofed  in,  and  though  it  had  neither 
door  nor  window,  nor  chimney,  nor  hearth,  they  re 
moved,  and  felt  much  elated  with  the  change. 
Something  like  a  door  was  soon  after  swinging  on 
its  leathern  hinges,  and  the  old  man  said  they  were 
now  quite  comfortable,  though  he  should  like  to  get 
a  window  ! 

The  first  intelligence  we  received  from  them  after 
this,  was  that  Mr  Newland,  the  father,  was  danger 
ously  ill  with  inflammation  of  the  lungs.  This  was 
not  surprising,  for  a  quilt  is  but  a  poor  substitute  for 
a  window  during  a  Michigan  November.  A  win 
dow  was  supplied,  and  such  alleviations  as  might  be 
collected,  were  contributed  by  several  of  the  neigh 
bors.  The  old  man  lingered  on,  much  to  my  sur 
prise,  and  after  two  or  three  weeks  we  heard  that  he 


170  A     NEW     HOME, 

was  better,  and  would  be  able  to  'kick  round'  pretty 
soon. 

It  was  not  long  after  that  we  were  enjoying  the 
fine  sleighing,  which  is  usually  so  short-lived  in  this 
lakey  region-.  The  roads  were  not  yet  much  beat 
en,  and  we  had  small  choice  in  our  drives,  not  desir 
ing  the  troublesome  honor  of  leading  the  way.  It 
so  happened  that  we  found  ourselves  in  the  neigh 
borhood  of  Mr  Newland's  clearing  ;  and  though  the 
sun  was  low,  we  thought  we  might  stop  a  moment 
to  ask  how  the  old  man  did. 

We  drove  to  the  door,  and  so  noiseless  was  our 
approach,  guiltless  of  bells,  that  no  one  seemed 
aware  of  our  coming.  We  tapped,  and  heard  the 
usual  reply,  '  Walk  ! '  which  I  used  to  think  must 
mean  <  Walk  off. ' 

1  opened  the  door  very  softly,  fearing  to  disturb 
the  sick  man ;  but  1  found  this  caution  quite  mal 
apropos.  Mrs  Newland  was  evidently  in  high  holi 
day  trim.  The  quilts  had  been  removed  from  their 
stations  round  the  bed,  and  the  old  man,  shrunken 
and  miserable-looking  enough,  sat  on  a  chair  in  the 
corner.  The  whole  apartment  bore  the  marks  of 
expected  hilarity.  The  logs  over  head  were  com 
pletely  shrouded  by  broad  hemlock  boughs  fastened 
against  them  ;  and  evergreens  of  various  kinds  were 
disposed  in  all  directions,  while  three  tall  slender 
candles,  with  the  usual  potato  supporters,  were  plac 
ed  on  the  cupboard  shelf. 

On  the  table,  a  cloth  seemed  to  cover  a  variety  of 
refreshments  ;  and  in  front  of  this  cloth  stood  a  tin 
pail,  nearly  full  of  a  liquid  whose  odor  was  but  too 
discernible  ;  and  on  the  whiskey,  for  such  it  seem 
ed,  swam  a  small  tin  cup.  But  1  forget  the  more 
striking  part  of  the  picture,  the  sons  arid  daughters 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  171 

of  the  house.  The  former  flaming  in  green  stocks 
and  scarlet  watch-guards,  while  the  cut  of  their  long 
dangling  coats  showed  that  whoever  they  might 
once  have  fitted,  they  were  now  exceedingly  out  of 
place  ;  the  latter  decked  in  tawdry,  dirty  finery,  and 
wearing  any  look  but  that  of  the  modest  country 
maiden,  who,  '  in  choosing  her  garments,  counts  no 
bravery  in  the  world  like  decency.' 

The  eldest  girl,  Amelia,  who  had  lived  with  me 
at  one  time,  had  been  lately  at  a  hotel  in  a  large 
village  at  some  distance,  and  had  returned  but  a 
short  time  before,  not  improved  either  in  manners  or 
reputation.  Her  tall  commanding  person  was  ar 
rayed  in  far  better  taste  than  her  sisters',  and  by 
contrast  with  the  place  and  circumstances,  she  wore 
really  a  splendid  air.  Her  dress  was  of  rich  silk, 
made  in  the  extreme  mode,  and  set  off  by  elegant 
jewelry.  Her  black  locks  were  dressed  with  scarlet 
berries  ;  most  elaborate  pendants  of  wrought  gold 
hung  almost  to  her  shoulders ;  and  above  her  glit 
tering  basilisk  eyes,  was  a  gold  chain  with  a  hand 
some  clasp  of  cut  coral.  The  large  hands  were 
covered  with  elegant  gloves,  and  an  embroidered 
handkerchief  was  carefully  arranged  in  her  lap. 

I  have  attempted  to  give  some  idea  of  the  appear 
ance  of  things  in  this  wretched  log-hut,  but  I  cannot 
pretend  to  paint  the  confusion  into  which  our  ill- 
timed  visit  threw  the  family,  who  had  always  ap 
peared  before  us  in  such  differerent  characters.  The 
mother  asked  us  to  sit  down,  however,  and  Mr  New- 
land  muttered  something,  from  which  i  gathered, 
that  '  the  girls  thought  they  must  have  a  kind  of  a 
house-warmin  like.' 

We  made  our  visit  very  short,  of  course  ;  but  be 
fore  we  could  make  our  escape,  an  old  fellow  came 


172  A     NEW     HOME, 

in  with  a  violin,  and  an  ox-sled  approached  the  door, 
loaded  with  young  people  of  both  sexes,  who  were 
all  ' spilt'  into  the  deep  snow,  by  a  'mistake  on  pur 
pose  '  of  the  driver.  In  the  scramble  which  ensued, 
we  took  leave ;  wondering  no  longer  at  the  destitu 
tion  of  the  Newlands,  or  of  the  other  families  of  the 
same  class,  whose  young  people  we  had  recognized 
in  the  melee. 

The  Newland  family  did  not  visit  us  as  usual 
after  this.  There  was  a  certain  consciousness  in 
their  appearance  when  we  met,  and  the  old  man 
more  than  once  alluded  to  our  accidental  discovery 
with  evident  uneasiness.  He  was  a  person  not  de 
void  of  shrewdness,  and  he  was  aware  that  the  utter 
discrepancy  between  his  complaints  and  the  appear 
ances  we  had  witnessed,  had  given  us  but  slight 
opinion  of  his  veracity  ;  and  for  some  time  we  were 
almost  strangers  to  each  other. 

How  I  was  surprised  some  two  months  after  at 
being  called  out  of  bed  by  a  most  urgent  message 
from  Mrs  Newland,  that  Amelia,  her  eldest  daugh 
ter,  was  dying  !  The  messenger  could  give  no  ac 
count  of  her  conditition,  but  that  she  was  now  in 
convulsions,  and  her  mother  despairing  of  her  life. 

I  lost  not  a  moment,  but  the  way  was  long,  and 
ere  I  entered  the  house,  the  shrieks  of  the  mother 
and  her  children,  told  me  I  had  come  too  late. 
Struck  with  horror  I  almost  hesitated  whether  to 
proceed,  but  the  door  was  opened,  and  I  went  in. 
Two  or  three  neighbors  with  terrified  countenances 
stood  near  the  bed,  and  on  it  lay  the  remains  of  the 
poor  girl,  swollen  and  discolored,  and  already  so 
changed  in  appearance  that  I  should  not  have  re 
cognized  it  elsewhere. 

I  asked  for  particulars,  but  the  person  whom  I 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  173 

addressed,  shook  her  head  and  declined  answering  ; 
and  there  was  altogether  an  air  of  horror  and  mys 
tery  which  I  was  entirely  unable  to  understand. 
Mrs  Newlancl,  in  her  lamentations,  alluded  to  the 
suddenness  of  the  blow,  and  when  I  saw  her  a  little 
calmed,  I  begged  to  know  how  long  Amelia  had 
been  ill,  expressing  my  surprise  that  I  had  heard 
nothing  of  it.  She  turned  upon  me  as  if  I  had 
stung  her. 

'  What,  you've  heard  their  lies  too,  have  ye  ! '  she 
exclaimed  fiercely,  and  she  cursed  in  no  measured 
terms  those  who  meddled  with  what  did  not  concern 
them.  I  felt  much  shocked  :  and  disclaiming  all 
intention  of  wounding  her  feelings,  I  offered  the 
needful  aid,  and,  when  all  was  finished,  returned 
home  uninformed  as  to  the  mariner  of  Amelia  New- 
land's  death. 

Yet  I  could  not  avoid  noticing  that  all  was  not 
right. 

Oft  have  I  seen  a  timely-parted  ghost 

Of  ashy  semblance,  meagre,  pale  and  bloodless 

but  the  whole  appearance  of  this  sad  wreck  was 
quite  different  from  that  of  any  corpse  I  had  ever 
viewed  before.  Nothing  was  done,  but  much  said 
or  hinted  on  all  sides.  Rumor  was  bus}7  as  usual  : 
and  I  have  been  assured  by  those  who  ought  to  have 
warrant  for  their  assertions,  that  this  was  but  one  fa 
tal  instance  out  of  the  many  cases,  wherein  life  was 
perilled  in  the  desperate  effort  to  elude  the  'slow,un- 
moving  finger '  of  public  scorn. 

That  the  class  of  settlers  to  which  the  Newlands 

belong,  a  class  but  too  numerous  in   Michigan3  is  a 

vicious  and   degraded   one,   I  cannot   doubt  :    but 

whether  the  charge  to  which  I  have  but  alluded,  is 

16 


174  A     NEW     HOME,. 

in  any  degree  just,  I  am  unable  to  determine.  1 
can  only  repeat,  'I  say  the  tale  as  'twas  said  to  me/ 
and  I  may  add  that  more  than  one  instance  of  a 
similar  kind,  though  with  results  less  evidently  fatal, 
has  since  come  under  my  knowledge. 

The  Newlands  have  since  left  this  part  of  the 
country,  driving  off  with  their  own,  as  many  of  their 
neighbors'  cattle  and  hogs  as  they  could  persuade  to 
accompany  them ;  and  not  forgetting  one  of  the 
train  of  fierce  dogs  which  have  not  only  shown  am 
ple  sagacity  in  getting  their  own  living,  but,  '  gin  a7 
tales  be  true,'  assisted  in  supporting  the  family  by 
their  habits  of  nightly  prowling. 

I  passed  by  their  deserted  dwelling.  They  had 
carried  off  the  door  and  window,  and  some  boys 
were  busy  pulling  the  shingles  from  the  roof  to 
make  quail-traps.  I  trust  we  have  few  such  neigh 
bors  left.  Texas  and  the  Canada  wrar  have  done 
much  for  us  in  this  way  ;  and  the  w7ide  west  is  rap 
idly  draughting  off  those  whom  we  shall  regret  as 
little  as  the  Newlands. 


FOLLOW?  175 


CHAPTER  XXIX, 


rSomething  that  mellows  and  that  glorifies, 
Ev'n  like  the  seft  and  spiritual  glow 
Kindling  rich  woods  whereon  th'  ethereal  bow 
Sleeps  lovingly  the  while. 

****** 

Swift  and  high 
The  arrowy  pillars  of  the  .fire-light  grew.  — 


As  I  have  never  made  any  remarkable  progress 
in  the  heights  and  depths  of  meteorology,  I  am  un 
able  to  speak  with  confidence  as  to  the  concatena 
tion  of  causes  which  may  withhold  from  this  fertile 
peninsula  the  treasures  of  the  clouds,  in  the  early 
spring-time,  when  our  land  elsewhere  is  saturated 
even  to  repletion  with  the  '  milky  nutriment.'5  In 
plain  terms,  I  cannot  tell  any  thing  about  the  reason 
why  we  have  such  dry  Springs  in  Michigan,  I  can 
only  advert  to  the  fact  as  occasioning  scenes  rather 
striking  to  the  new  comer. 

In  April,  instead  of  the  x  misty-moisty  morning,' 
which  proverbially  heralds  the  '  uncertain  glory  '  of 
the  day  in  that  much  belied  month,  the  sun,  day 
after  day,  and  week  after  week,  shows  his  jolly  red 
face,  at  the  proper  hour,  little  by  little  above  the 
horizon,  casting  a  scarlet  glory  on  the  leafless  trees, 
and  investing  the  well-piled  brush-heaps  with  a 
burning  splendor  before  their  time.  Now  and  then 
a  brisk  shower  occurs.,  but  it  is  short-lived,  and  not 


176  A     NEW     HOME, 

very  abundant ;  and  after  being  here  through  a  sea 
son  or  two,  one  begins  to  wonder  that  the  soil  is  so 
fertile.  My  own  private  theory  is,  that  when  the 
peninsula  was  covered  with  water,  as  it  doubtless 
was  before  the  Niagara  met  with  such  a  fall,  the 
porous  mass  became  so  thoroughly  soaked,  that  the 
sun  performs  the  office  of  rain,  by  drawing  from  be 
low  to  the  rich  surface,  the  supplies  of  moisture 
which,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  are  necessari 
ly  furnished  from  aerial  reservoirs.  Such  are  my 
views,  which  I  offer  with  the  diffidence  becoming  a 
tyro  ;  but  at  the  same  time  avowing  frankly  that  I 
shall  not  even  consider  an  opposing  hypothesis,  until 
my  antagonist  shall  have  traversed  the  entire  state, 
and  counted  the  marshes  and  cat-holes  from  which 
I  triumphantly  draw  my  conclusion. 

Leaving  this  question  then,  I  will  make  an  effort 
to  regain  the  floating  end  of  my  broken  thread. 
These  exceedingly  dry  Spring-times — all  sun  r.iid 
a  very  little  east-wind — leave  every  tree,  bush,  brier 
and  blade  of  grass,  dry  as  new  tinder.  They  are 
as  combustible  as  the  heart  of  a  sophomore  ;  as 
ready  for  a  blaze  as  a  conclave  of  ancient  ladies 
who  have  swallowed  the  first  cup  of  hyson,  and 
only  wait  one  single  word  to  begin. 

At  this  very  suitable  time,  it  is  one  of  the  customs 
of  the  country  for  every  man  that  has  an  acre  of 
marsh,  to  burn  it  over,  in  order  to  prepare  for  a  new 
crop  of  grass  ;  and  a  handful  of  fire  thus  applied, 
wants  but  a  cap-full  of  wind,  to  send  it  miles  in  any 
or  all  directions.  The  decayed  trees,  and  those 
which  may  have  been  some  time  felled,  catch  the 
swift  destruction,  and  aid  the  roaring  flame  ;  and 
while  the  earth  seems  covered  with  writhing  ser 
pents  of  living  fire,  ever  and  anon  an  undulating 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  177 

pyramid  flares  wildly  upward,  as  if  threatening  the 
very  skies,  only  to  fall  the  next  moment  in  crashing 
fragments,  which  serve  to  further  the  spreading 
ruin. 

These  scenes  have  a  terrible  splendor  by  night ; 
but  the  effect  by  day  is  particularly  curious.  The 
air  is  so  filled  with  the  widely-diffused  smoke,  that 
the  soft  sunshine  of  April  is  mellowed  into  the  ruddy 
glow  of  Autumn,  and  the  mist  which  seems  to  hang 
heavy  over  the  distant  hills  and  woods,  completes  the 
illusion.  One's  associations  are  those  of  approach 
ing  winter,  and  it  seems  really  a  solecism  to  be 
making  garden  under  such  a  sky.  But  this  is  not 
all. 

We  were  all  busy  in  the  rough,  pole-fenced  acre, 
which  we  had  begun  to  call  our  garden  ; — one  with 
a  spade,  another  with  a  hoe  or  rake,  and  the  least 
useful, — videlicet,  I,— with  a  trowel  and  a  paper  of 
celery-seed,  when  a  rough  neighbor  of  ours  shouted 
over  the  fence  : — 

*  What  be  you  a  potterin  there  for  ?  You'd  a 
plaguy  sight  better  be  a  fighting  fire,  I  tell  ye  ! 
The  wind  is  this  way.  and  that  fire'll  be  on  your 
hay-stacks  in  less  than  no  time,  if  you  don't  mind.' 
Thus  warned,  we  gazed  at  the  dark  smoke  which 
had  been  wavering  over  the  north-west  all  day,  and 
saw  that  it  had  indeed  made  fearful  advances.  But 
two  well-travelled  roads  still  lay  between  us  and  the 
burning  marshes,  and  these  generally  prove  toler 
ably  effectual  barriers  when  the  wind  is  low.  So 
our  operatives  took  their  way  toward  the  scene  of 
action,  carrying  with  them  the  gardening  imple 
ments,  as  the  most  efficient  weapons  in  '  fighting 
fire.' 

16* 


178 


A     NEW     HOME 


They  had  to  walk  a  long  distance,  but  the  fire 
was  very  obliging  and  advanced  more  than  two 
steps  to  meet  them.  In  short,  the  first  barrier  was 
overleapt  before  they  reached  the  second,  and  the  air 
had  become  so  heated  that  they  could  only  use  the 
hoes  and  spades  in  widening  the  road  nearest  our 
dwelling,  by  scraping  away  the  leaves  and  bushes ; 
and  even  there  they  found  it  necessary  to  retreat 
more  rapidly  than  was  consistent  with  a  thorough 
performance  of  the  work.  The  winds,  though  light, 
favored  the  destroyer,  and  the  more  experienced  of 
the  neighbors,  who  had  turned  out  for  the  general 
good,  declared  there  was  nothing  now  but  to  make 
a  *  back-fire  ! '  So  homeward  all  ran,  and  set  about 
kindling  an  opposing  serpent  which  should  'swallow 
up  the  rest';  but  it  proved  too  late.  The  flames  only 
reached  our  stable  and  haystacks  the  sooner,  and  nil 
that  we  could  now  accomplish  was  to  preserve  the 
cottage  and  its  immediate  appurtenances. 

I  scarce  remember  a  blanker  hour.  I  could  not 
be  glad  that  the  house  and  horses  were  safe,  so  vex 
ed  did  I  feel  to  think  that  a  rational  attention  to  the 
advance  of  that  black  threatening  column,  would 
have  prevented  the  disaster.  I  sat  gazing  out  of 
the  back  window,  watching  the  gradual  blackening 
of  the  remains  of  our  stores  of  hay — scolding  the 
while  most  vehemently,  at  myself  and  every  body 
else,  for  having  been  so  stupidly  negligent ;  declar 
ing  that  I  should  not  take  the  slightest  interest  in 
the  garden  which  had  so  engrossed  us,  and  wishing 
most  heartily  that  the  fellow  who  set  the  marsh  on 
fire,  could  be  detected  and  fined  '  not  more  than  one 
thousand  dollars,'  as  the  law  directs  ;  when  our 
neighbor,  long  Sam  Jennings,  the  slowest  talker  in 
Michigan,  came  sauntering  across  the  yard  with 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW.  179 

his  rusty  fowling-piece  on  .his  shoulder,  and  drawled 
out — 

'  I  should  think  your  dam  was  broke  some  ;  I  see 
the  water  in  the  creek  look  dreadful  muddy.'  And 
while  Sam  took  his  leisurely  way  to  the  woods,  the 
tired  fire-fighters  raced,  one  and  all,  to  the  dam, 
where  they  found  the  water  pouring  through  a  hole 
near  the  head  gate,  at  a  rate  which  seemed  likely  to 
carry  off  the  entire  structure  in  a  very  short  time. 

But  I  have  purposely  refrained  from  troubling  the 
reader  with  a  detail  of  any  of  the  various  accidents 
which  attended  our  own  particular  debut,  in  the 
backwoods.  I  mentioned  the  fire  because  it  is  an 
annual  occurrence  throughout  the  country,  and 
often  consumes  wheat-stacks,  and  even  solitary 
dwellings  ;  and  I  was  drawn  in  to  record  the  first 
breach  in  the  mill-dam,  as  occurring  on  the  very 
day  of  the  disaster  by  fire. 

I  shall  spare  my  friends  any  account  of  the  many 
troubles  and  vexatious  delays  attendant  on  repairing 
that  necessary  evil,  the  dam  ;  and  even  a  transcript 
of  the  three  astounding  figures  which  footed  the  ac 
count  of  expenses  on  the  occasion.  I  shall  only 
observe,  that  if  long  Sam  Jennings  did  not  get  a 
ducking  for  not  giving  intelligence  of  the  impending 
evil  a  full  half-hour  before  it  suited  his  convenience 
to  stroll  our  way,  it  was  not  because  he  did  not  rich 
ly  deserve  it — and  so  I  close  my  chapter  of  acci 
dents. 


180  A     NEW     HOME 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Qu'ai  j^oublie?  dere  is  some  simples' in  my  closet,  dat  I  vill  not  for  de 
varld  I  shall  leave  behind. 

********* 
Shal.    The  Council  shall  hear  it :    it  is  a  riot. 

Evans.  It  is  petter  that  friends  ig  the  sword,  and  end  it ;  and  there  is 
another  device  in  my  prain  which,  peradventure,  prings  good  discretions 
with  it.  *  *  We  will  afterwards  'ork  upon  the  cause  with  as  great 
discreetly  as  we  can. 

MERRY  WIVES  OF  WINDSOR. 

c  AH  !  who  can  tell  how  hard  it  is  to '  say — 
any  thing  about  an  unpretending  village  like  ours, 
in  terms  suited  to  the  delicate  organization  of  :  ears 
polite.'  How  can  one  hope  to  find  any  thing  of  in 
terest  about  such  common-place  people  ?  Where  is 
the  aristocratic  distinction  which  makes  the  kind 
visit  of  the  great  lady  at  the  sick-bed  of  suffering 
indigence  so  great  a  favor,  that  all  the  inmates  of 
the  cottage  behave  picturesquely  out  of  gratitude — 
form  themselves  into  tableaux,  and  make  speeches 
worth  recording  ?  Here  are  neither  great  ladies  nor 
humble  cottagers.  I  cannot  bring  to  my  aid  either 
the  exquisite  boudoir  of  the  one  class,  with  its  capti 
vating  bijouterie — its  velvet  couches  and  its  draper 
ies  of  rose-colored  satin,  so  becoming  to  the  complex 
ions  of  one's  young-lady  characters — nor  yet  the  cot 
of  the  other  more  simple  but  not  less  elegant,  sur 
rounded  with  clustering  eglantine  and  clematis,  and 
inhabited  by  goodness,  grace,  and  beauty.  These 
materials  are  denied  me  ;  but  yet  I  must  try  to  de 
scribe  something  of  Michigan  cottage  life,  taking 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  181 

care  to  avail  myself  of  such  delicate  periphrasis  as 
may  best  veil  the  true  homeliness  of  my  subject. 

Moonlight  and  the  ague  are,  however,  the  same 
everywhere.  At  least  I  meet  with  no  description  in 
any  of  the  poets  of  my  acquaintance  which  might 
not  be  applied,  without  reservation,  to  Michigan 
moonlight  ;  and  as  for  the  ague,  did  not  great  Cae 
sar  shake  when  '  the  fit  was  on  him  ?' 

'Tis  true,  this  god  did  shake  ; 

His  coward   lips   did   from  their  color  fly 

And  in  this  important  particular  poor  Lorenzo  Tit 
mouse  was  just  like  the  inventor  of  the  laurel  crown. 
We — Mrs  Rivers  and  1— went  to  his  father's,  at  his 
urgent  request,  on  just  such  a  night  as  is  usually 
chosen  for  romantic  walks  by  a  certain  class  of  lovers. 
We  waited  not  for  escort,  although  the  night  had  al 
ready  fallen,  and  there  was  a  narrow  strip  of  forest 
to  pass  in  our  way  ;  but,  leaving  word  whither  we 
had  gone,  we  accompanied  the  poor  shivering  boy, 
each  carrying  what  we  could.  And  what  does  the 
gentle  reader  think  we  carried  ?  A  custard  or  a  glass 
of  jelly  each  perhaps,  and  a  nice  sponge-cake,  or  some 
thing  equally  delicate,  and  likely  to  tempt  the  faint 
appetite  of  the  invalid.  No  such  thing.  We  had 
learned  better  than  to  offer  such  nick-nacks  to  peo 
ple  who  '  a'n't  used  to  sweetnin.'  My  companion 
was  t  doubly  arm'd'  :  a  small  tin  pail  of  cranberry 
sauce  in  one  hand,  a  bottle  of  vinegar  in  the  other. 
I  carried  a  modicum  of  '  hop  'east,'  and  a  little  bag 
of  crackers  ;  a  scrap  of  hyson,  and  a  box  of 
quinine  pills.  Odd  enough  ;  but  we  had  been  at 
such  places  before. 

We  had  a  delicious  walk  ;  though  poor  Lorenzo, 
who  had  a  bag  of  flour  on  bss  shoulders,  was  fain 
to  rest  often.  This  was  his  '  well  day,'  to  be  sure ;  but 


182  A     NEW     HOME, 

he  had  had  some  eight  or  ten  fits  of  ague,  enough  to 
wither  anybody's  pith  and  marrow,  as  those  will  say 
who  have  tried  it.  That  innate  politeness  which 
young  rustics,  out  of  books  as  well  as  in  them,  are  apt 
to  exhibit  when  they  are  in  good  humor,  made  Lo 
renzo  decline,  most  vehemently,  our  offers  of  assis 
tance.  But  we  at  length  fairly  took  his  bag  from 
him,  and  passing  a  stick  through  the  string,  carried 
it  between  us  ;  while  the  boy  disposed  of  our  va 
rious  small  articles  by  the  aid  of  his  capacious  pock 
ets.  And  a  short  half  mile  from  the  bridge  brought 
us  to  his  father's. 

It  was  an  ordinary  log  house,  but  quite  old  and 
dilapidated  :  the  great  open  chimney  occupying  most 
of  one  end  of  the  single  apartment,  and  two  double- 
beds  with  a  trundle-bed,  the  other.  In  one  of  the 
large  beds  lay  the  father  and  the  eldest  son  ;  in  the 
other,  the  mother  and  two  little  daughters,  all  ill 
with  ague,  and  all  sad  and  silent,  save  my  friend 
Mrs  Titmouse,  whose  untameable  tongue  was  too 
much  even  for  the  ague.  M  rs  Titmouse  is  one  of 
those  fortunate  beings  who  can  talk  all  day  without 
saying  any  thing.  She  is  the  only  person  whom  I 
have  met  in  these  regions  who  appears  to  have  paid 
her  devoirs  at  Castle  Blarney. 

'  How  d'ye  do,  ladies, — how  d'ye  do  ?  Bless  my 
soul  !  if  ever  1  thought  to  be  catch'd  in  sitch  a  con 
dition,  and  by  sitch  grand  ladies  too  !  Not  a  chaif, 
for  you  to  sit  down  on.  I  often  tell  Titmouse  tha:. 
we  live  jest  like  the  pigs  ;  but  he  ha'n't  no  ambition.' 
I'm  sure  I'm  under  a  thousand  compliments  to  ye 
for  coming  to  see  me.  We're  expecting  a  mother 
of  his'n  to  come  and  stay  with  us,  but  she  ha'n't 
come  yet — and  I  in  sitch  a  condition  ;  can't  show 
ye  no  civility.  Do  set  down,  ladies,  if  you  can  set 


AVHO'LL    FOLLOW?  183 

upon  a  chest — ladies  like  you.     I'm  sure  I'm  under 

a  thousand  compliments '  and  so  the  poor  soul 

ran  on  till  she  was  fairly  out  of  breath,  in  spite  of 
our  efforts  to  out-talk  her  with  our  assurances  that 
we  could  accommodate  ourselves  very  well,  and 
could  stay  but  a  few  minutes. 

1  And  now,  Mrs  Titmouse,'  said  Mrs  Rivers,  in 
her  sweet,  pleasant  voice,  '  tell  us  what  we  can  do 
for  you  ?' 

'  Do  for  me  !  O,  massy  !  O,  nothing,  I  thank 
ye.  There  a'n't  nothing  that  ladies  like  you  can  do 
for  me.  We  make  out  very  well,  and— 

1  What  do  you  say  so  for  !'  growled  her  husband 
from  the  other  bed.  '  You  know  we  ha'n't  tasted  a 
mouthful  since  morning,  nor  hadn't  it,  and  I  sent 
Lorenzo  myself— 

'  Well,  I  never  !'  responded  his  help-mate  ; 
'  you're  always  doing  just  so  :  troubling  people. 
You  never  had  no  ambition,  Titmouse  ;  you 
know  I  always  said  so.  To  be  sure,  we  ha'n't  had 
no  tea  this  good  while,  and  tea  does  taste  dreadful 
good  when  a  body's  got  the  agur  ;  and  my  bread 
is  gone,  and  I  ha'n't  been  able  to  set  no  emp- 
tins  ;  but — 

Here  we  told  what  we  had  brought,  and  pre 
pared  at  once  to  make  some  bread  ;  but  Mrs  Tit 
mouse  seemed  quite  horrified,  and  insisted  upon  get- 
ling  out  of  bed,  though  she  staggered,  and  would 
rlave  fallen  if  we  had  not  supported  her  to  a  seat. 

1  Now  tell  me  where  the  water  is,  and  1  will  get 
it  myself,'  said  Mrs  Rivers,  c  and  do  you  sit  still  and  < 
see  how  soon  I  will  make  a  loaf.' 

*  Water  !'  said  the  poor  soul  ;  l  I'm  afraid  we 
have  not  water  enough  to  make  a  loaf.  Mr  Grimes 
brought  us  a  barrel  day  before  yesterday,  and  we've 


184  A     NEW     HOME, 

been  dreadful  careful  of  it,  but  the  agur  is  so  dread 
ful  thirsty — I'm  afraid  there  a'n't  none.' 

c  Have  you  no  spring  ?' 

1  No,  ma'am  ;  but  we  have  always  got  plenty  of 
water  down  by  the  mash  till  this  dry  summer.' 

'  1  should  think  that  was  enough  to  give  you  the 
ague.  Don't  you  think  the  marsh  water  unwhole 
some  ?' 

'  Well,  1  don't  know  but  it  is  ;  but  you  see  he 
was  always  a-going  to  dig  a  well  ;  but  he  ha'n't  no 
ambition,  nor  never  had,  and  I  always  told  him  so. 
And  as  to  the  agur,  if  you've  got  to  have  it,  why  you 
can't  get  clear  of  it.' 

There  was,  fortunately,  water  enough  left  in  the 
barrel  to  set  the  bread  and  half-fill  the  tea-kettle  ; 
and  we  soon  made  a  little  blaze  with  sticks,  which 
served  to  boil  the  kettle  to  make  that  luxury  of  the 
woods,  a  cup  of  green  tea. 

Mrs  Titmouse  did  not  need  the  tea  to  help  her 
talking  powers,  for  she  was  an  independent  talker, 
whose  gush  of  words  knew  no  ebb  nor  exhaustion. 

Alike   to  her  was   tide  or  time, 
Moonless   midnight   or   matin  prime. 

Her  few  remaining  teeth  chattered  no  faster  when 
she  had  the  ague  than  at  any  other  time.  The 
stream  flowed  on 

In  one  weak  washy  everlasting  flood. 

When  we  had  done  what  little  we  could,  and 
were  about  to  depart,  glad  to  escape  her  overwhelm 
ing  protestations  of  eternal  gratitude,  her  husband 
reminded  her  that  the  cow  had  not  been  milked 
since  the  evening  before,  when  '  Miss  Grimes  had 
been  there.'  Here  was  a  dilemma  !  How  we  re 
gretted  our  defective  education,  which  prevented  our 
rendering  so  simple  yet  so  necessary  a  service  to  the 
sick  poor. 


FOLLOW?  185 

We   remembered    the  gentleman   who   did    not 
know  whether  he  could  x  ;id  Greek,  as  he  had  nev 
er  tried  ;    and   set  ourselves    resolutely  at  work  toj 
'  ascertain  our  powers  in  the  milking  line. 

But  alas  !  the  '  milky  mother  of  the  herd  '  had 
small  respect  for  timid  and  useless  town  ladies. 

Crummie  kick'd,  :in  1  Crummie  flounced, 
And  Crummie  whisk'd  her  tail. 

In  vain  did  Mrs  Rivers  hold  the  pail  with  both 
hands,  while  1  essayed  the  arduous  task.  So  sure 
as  I  succeeded  in  bringing  ever  so  tiny  a  stream, 
the  ill-mannered  beast  would  almost  put  out  my 
eyes  with  her  tail,  and  oblige  us  both  to  jump  up 
and  run  away  ;  and,  after  a  protracted  struggle,  the 
cow  gained  the  victory,  as  might  have  been  expect 
ed,  and  we  were  fain  to  retreat  into  the  house. 

The  next  expedient  was  to  support  Mrs  Titmouse 
on  the  little  bench,  while  she  tried  to  accomplish  the 
mighty  work  ;  and  having  been  partially  successful 
in  this,  we  at  length  took  our  leave,  promising  aid 
for  the  morrow,  and  hearing  the  poor  woman's 
tongue  at  intervals  till  we  were  far  in  the  wood. 

'  Lord  bless  ye  !  I'm  sure  I'm  under  an  everlastin 
compliment  to  ye  ;  I  wish  I  know'd  how  I  could 
pay  ye.  Such  ladies  to  be  a  waitin  on  the  likes  of 
me  ;  I'm  sure  I  never  see  nothin  like  it,'  &c,  &c. 

And  now  we  began  to  wonder  how  long  it  would 
be  before  we  should  see  our  respected  spouses,  as 
poor  Lorenzo  had  fallen  exhausted  on  the  bed,  and 
was  in  no  condition  to  see  us  even  a  part  of  the  way 
home.  The  wood  was  very  dark,  thorgh  we  could 
see  glimpses  of  the  mill-pond  lying  like  liquid  d.a- 
monds  in  the  moonlight. 

We  had  advanced  near  the  brow  of  the  hill  which 
descends  toward  the  pond,  when  strange  sounds 


186  A      NEW     HOME, 

met  our  ears.  Strange  sounds  for  our  peaceful  vil 
lage  !  Shouis  and  howling — eldrich  screams — In 
dian  yells— the  braying  of  (in  horns,  and  the  violent 
clashing  of  various  noisy  articles. 

We  hurried  on,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  a 
crowd  of  persons,  who  seemed  coming  from  the  vil 
lage  to  the  pond.  And  now  loud  talking,  threats — 
(  Duck  him  !  duck  the  impudent  rascal  !' — What 
could  it  be  ? 

Here  was  a  mob  !  a  Montacute  mob  !  and  the 
cause  ?  I  believe  all  mobs  pretend  to  have  causes. 
Could  the  choice  spirits  have  caught  an  abolitionist? 
which  they  thought,  as  I  had  heard,  meant  nothing 
less  than  a  monster. 

But  now  I  recollected  having  heard  that  a  ven 
triloquist,  which  I  believe  most  of  our  citizens  consid 
ered  a  beast  of  the  same  nature,  had  sent  notices  of 
an  exhibition  for  the  evening  ;  and  the  truth  flash 
ed  upon  us  at  once. 

'  In  with  him  !  in  with  him  !'  they  shouted  as 
they  approached  the  water,  just  as  we  began  to  de 
scend  the  hill.  And  then  the  clear  fine  voice  of  the 
dealer  in  voice  was  distinctly  audible  above  the 
hideous  din — 

4  Gentlemen,  I  have  warned  you  ;  I  possess  the 
means  of  defending  myself,  you  will  force  me  to  use 
them.' 

'  Stop  his  mouth,'  shouted  a  well-known  bully, 
'  he  lies  ;  he  ha'n't  got  nothing  !  in  with  him  !' 
and  a  violent  struggle  followed,  some  few  of  our  so 
ber  citizens  striving  to  protect  the  stranger. 

One  word  to  Mrs  Rivers,  and  we  set  up  a  united 
shriek,  a  screech  like  an  army  of  sea-gulls.  'Help  ! 
help  !'  and  we  stopped  on  the  hill-side,  our  while 
dresses  distinctly  visible  in  the  clear,  dazzling 
moonlight. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  187 

We  '  stinted  not  nor  staid'  till  a  diversion  was  fair 
ly  effected.  A  dozen  forms  seceded  at  once  from 
the  crowd,  and  the  spirit  of  the  thing  was  at  an  end. 

We  waited  on  the  spot  where  our  artifice  began, 
certain  of  knowing  every  individual  who  should  ap 
proach  ;  and  the  very  first  proved  those  we  most 
wished  to  see.  And  now  came  the  very  awkward 
business  of  explaining  our  ruse,  and  Mrs  Rivers 
was  rather  sharply  reproved  for  her  part  of  it.  Har- 
ley  Rivers  was  not  the  man  to  object  to  any  thing 
like  a  lark,  and  he  had  only  attempted  to  effect  the 
release  of  the  ventriloquist,  after  Mr  Clavers  had 
joined  him  on  the  way  to  Mr  Titmouse's.  The 
boobies  who  had  been  most  active  in  the  outrage 
would  fain  have  renewed  the  sport  ;  but  the  ventril 
oquist  had  wisely  taken  advantage  of  our  diversion 
in  his  favor,  and  was  no  where  to  be  found.  The 
person  at  whose  house  he  had  put  up  told  after 
wards  that  he  had  gone  out  with  loaded  pistols  in 
his  pocket  ;  so  even  a  woman's  shrieks,  hated  of 
gods  and  men,  may  sometimes  be  of  service. 

Montacute  is  fa.i  above  mobbing  now.  This  was 
the  first  and  last  exhibition  of  the  spirit  of  the  age. 
The  most  mobbish  of  our  neighbors  have  flitted 
westward,  seeking  more  congenial  association.  I 
trust  they  may  be  so  well  satisfied,  that  they  will 
not  think  of  returning;  for  it  is  not  pleasant  to  find 
a  dead  pig  in  one's  well,  or  a  favorite  dog  hung  up 
at  the  gate-post  ;  to  say  nothing  of  cows  milked 
on  the  marshes,  hen-roosts  rifled,  or  melon-patches 
cleared  in  the  course  of  the  night. 

We  learned  afterwards  the  '•  head  and  front'  of 
of  the  ventriloquist's  offence.  He  had  asked  twen 
ty-five  cents  a-head  for  the  admission  of  the  sov 
ereign  people. 


188  A     NEW     HOME, 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Bah!    bah! — not  a  bit  ma^ic  in  it  at  all — not  a  bit.     It  is  all  founded  on 
de    pla.ietary    influence,  and   de    sympathy  and    force  of  numbers.      I    will 

show  you  much  liner  dan  dis. 

ANTIQUARY. 

THE  very  next  intelligence  from  our  urban  rival 
came  in  the  shape  of  a  polite  note  to  Mr  Clavers, 
offering  him  any  amount  of  stock  in  the  < Merchants' 
and  Manufacturers'  Bank  of  Tinkerville.'  My  hon 
ored  spouse — I  acknowledge  it  with  regret — is  any 
thinor  Dllt  an  '  enterprising  man.'  But  our  neighbor, 
Mr  Rivers,  or  his  astute  father  for  him,  thought  this 
chance  for  turning  paper  into  gold  and  silver  too 
tempting  to  be  slighted,  and  entered  at  once  into  the 
business  of  making  money  on  a  large  scale. 

T  looked  at  first  upon  the  whole  matter  with  un 
feigned  indifference,  for  money  has  never  seemed  so 
valueless  to  me  as  since  I  have  experienced  how  lit 
tle  it  will  buy  in  the  woods  ;  but  I  was  most  un 
pleasantly  surprised  when  I  heard  that  Harley  Riv 
ers,  the  husband  of  my  friend,  was  to  be  exalted  to 
the  office  of  President  of  the  new  bank. 

'Just  as  we  were  beginning  to  be  so  comfortable, 
to  think  you  should  leave  us,'  said  I  to  Mrs  Rivers. 

'  O  !  dear,  no,'  she  replied  ;  '  Harley  says  it  will 
not  be  necessary  for  us  to  remove  at  present.  The 
business  can  be  transacted  just  as  well  here,  and  we 
shall  not  go  until  the  banking-house  and  our  own 
can  be  erected.' 


189 

This  seemed  odd  to  a  novice  like  myself ;  but 
I  rejoiced  that  arrangements  were  so  easily  made 
which  would  allow  me  to  retain  for  a  while  so 
pleasant  a  companion. 

As  I  make  not  the  least  pretension  to  regularity, 
but  only  an  attempt  to  '  body  forth '  an  unvarnished 
picture  of  the  times,  I  may  as  well  proceed  in  this 
place  to  give  the  uninitiated  reader  so  much  of  the 
history  of  the  Tinkerville  Bank,  as  has  become  the 
property  of  the  public  ;  supposing  that  the  effects  of 
our  '  General  Banking  Law  '  may  riot  be  as  famil 
iarly  known  elsewhere  as  they  unfortunately  are  in 
this  vicinity. 

When  our  speculators  in  land  found  that  the 
glamour  had  departed,  that  the  community  had  seen 
the  ridicule  of  the  delusion  which  had  so  long  made 

'  The  cobwebs  on  a  cottage  wall 

Seem  tapestry  in  lordly  hall  j 

A  nutshell  seem  a  gilded  barge, 

A  sheeling  seem  a  palace  large, 

And  youth  seem  age,  and  age  seem  yonth,' 

and  poverty  seem  riches,  and  idleness  industry,  and 
fraud  enterprise  ;  some  of  these  cunning  magicians 
set  themselves  about  concocting  a  new  species  of 
gramarye,  by  means  of  which  the  millions  of  acres 
of  wild  land  which  were  left  on  their  hands  might 
be  turned  into  bond  fide  cash — paper-cash  at  least, 
to  meet  certain  times  of  payment  of  certain  moneys 
borrowed  at  certain  rates  of  interest  during  the  fer 
vor  of  the  speculating  mania.  The  '  General  Bank 
ing  Law  '  of  enviable  notoriety,  which  allowed  any 
dozen  of  men  who  could  pledge  real  estate  to  a 
nominal  amount,  to  assume  the  power  of  making 
money  of  rags ;  this  was  the  magic  cauldron,  whose 
powers  were  destined  to  transmute  these  acres  of 
17* 


190  A      NEW     11  O  M  E? 

wood  and  meadow  into  splendid  metropolitan  resi 
dences,  with  equipages  of  corresponding  elegance, 
It  was  only  *  bubble-bubble,'  and  burr-oaks  were 
turned  into  marble  tables,  tall  tamaracks  into  dra- 
peried  bedsteads,  lakes  into  looking-glasses,  and 
huge  expanses  of  wet  marsh  into  velvet  couches, 
and  carpets  from  the  looms  of  Agra  and  of  Ind. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  this  necromantic  power 
had  its  limits.  Many  of  these  successful  wizards 
seemed  after  all  a  little  out  of  place  in  their  palaces 
of  enchantment ;  and  one  could  hardly  help  think 
ing,  that  some  of  them  would  have  been  more  suit 
ably  employed  in  tramping,  with  cowhide  boot,  the 
slippery  marshes  on  which  their  greatness  was  based, 
than  in  treading  mincingly  the  piled  carpets  which 
were  the  magical  product  of  those  marshes.  But 
that  was  nobody's  business  but  their  own.  They 
considered  themselves  as  fulfilling  their  destiny. 
v/  Some  thirty  banks  or  more  were  the  fungous 
growth  of  the  new  political  hot-bed  j  and  many  of 
these  were  of  course  without  a  '  local  habitation,' 
though  they  might  boast  the  *  name,'  it  may  be,  of 
some  part  of  the  deep  woods,  where  the  wild  cat  had 
hitherto  been  the  most  formidable  foe  to  the  unwary 
and  defenceless.  Hence  the  celebrated  term  4  Wild 
Cat,7  justified  fully  by  the  course  of  these  cunning 
and  stealthy  blood-suckers  ;  more  fatal  in  their 
treacherous  spring  than  ever  was  their  forest  proto- 
type.  A  stout  farmer  might  hope  to  '  whip  '  a  wild 
cat  or  two ;  but  once  in  the  grasp  of  a  '  wild  cat 
bank,'  his  struggles  were  unavailing.  Hopeless 
ruin  has  been  the  consequence  in  numerous  in 
stances,  and  every  day  adds  new  names  to  the  list. 

But  I  have  fallen  into  the  sin  of  generalizing,  in 
stead  of  journalizing,  as  I  promised.  The  interest 
ing  nature  of  the  subject  will  be  deemed  a  sufficient 


WHC^LL    FOLLOW)  191 

justification,  by  such  of  my  readers  as  may  have  en 
joyed  the  pleasure  of  making  alumets  of  bank-notes, 
as  so  many  Michiganians  have  done,  or  might  have 
done  if  they  had  not  been  too  angry. 

Of  the  locale  of  the  Merchants'  and  Manufactur 
ers'  Bank  of  Tinkerville,  I  have  already  attempted 
to  gi\7e  some  faint  idea  ;  and  I  doubt  not  one  might 
have  ridden  over  many  of  the  new  banks  in  a  simi 
lar  manner,  without  suspecting  their  existence. 
The  rubicund  and  smooth-spoken  father-in-law  of 
my  friend  was  the  main-spring  of  the  institution  in 
question  ;  and  his  son  Harley,  who  *  did  not  love 
work,'  was  placed  in  a  conspicuous  part  of  the  pano 
rama  as  President.  I  thought  our  Caleb  Quotem 
neighbor,  Mr  Simeon  Jenkins,  would  have  found 
time  to  fulfil  the  duties  of  cashier,  and  he  can  write 
*  S.  Jenkins '  very  legibly  ;  so  there  would  have 
been  no  objection  on  that  score :  but  it  was  thought 
prudent  to  give  the  office  to  a  Tinkervillian — a  man 
of  straw,  for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary ;  for  all  I 
saw  or  heard  of  him  was  his  name, {  A.  Bite,'  on  the 
bills.  A  fatal  mistake  this,  according  to  Mr  Jenkins. 
He  can  demonstrate,  to  any  body  who  feels  an  in 
terest  in  the  facts  of  the  case,  that  the  bank  never 
would  have  '  flatted  out,'  if  he  had  had  a  finger  in 
the  pie. 

Just  as  our  Wild  Cat  was  ready  for  a  spring,  the 
only  obstacle  in  her  path  was  removed,  by  the  abo 
lition  of  the  old-fashioned-and-troublesome-but-now- 
exploded  plan  of  specie  payments  ;  and  our  neigh 
bors  went  up  like  the  best  rocket  from  Yauxhall. 
The  Tinkerville  Astor  House,  the  County  Offices, 
the  Banking  House,  were  all  begun  simultaneously, 
as  at  the  waving  of  a  wand  of  power.  Montacute 
came  at  once  to  a  dead  stand  ;  for  not  a  workman 
could  be  had  for  love  or  flour.  Those  beautifully 


182  A    NEW    HOME, 

engraved  bills  were  too  much  for  the  public  spirit  of 
most  of  us,  and  we  forgot  our  Moutacute  patriotism 
for  a  time.  '  Real  estate  pledged  ;  '  of  course  the 
notes  were  better  than  gold  or  silver,  because  they 
were  lighter  in  the  pocket. 

Time's  whirligig  went  round.  Meanwhile  all 
was  prosperous  at  the  incipient  capital  of  our  rising 
county.  Mr  President  Rivers  talked  much  of  re 
moving  to  the  bank  ;  and  in  preparation,  sent  to 
New- York  for  a  complete  outfit  of  furniture,  and  a 
pretty  carriage  ;  while  Mrs  Rivers  astonished  the  na 
tives  in  our  log  meeting-house,  and  the  wood  chucky 
in  our  forest  strolls,  by  a  Parisian  bonnet  of  the  most 
exquisite  rose-color,  her  husband's  taste.  Mr  Rivers 
senior,  and  sundry  other  gentlemen,  some  ruddy- 
gilled  and  full-pocketed  like  himself,  others  looking 
so  lean  and  hungiy,  that  I  wondered  any  body 
would  trust  them  in  a  bank — a  place  where,  as  I 
supposed  in  my  greenness, 

In  bright  confusion  open  rouleaux  lie, 

made  frequent  and  closeted  sojourn  at  Montacute. 
Our  mill  whirred  merrily,  and  toll-wheat  is  a  cur 
rency  that  never  depreciates ;  but  in  other  respects, 
we  were  only  moderately  prosperous.  Our  first 
merchant,  Mr  Skinner,  did  not  clear  above  three 
thousand  dollars  the  first  year.  Slow  work  for 
Michigan  ;  and  somehow,  Mr  Jenkins  was  far 
from  getting  rich  as  fast  as  he  expected. 

One  bright  morning,  as  I  stood  looking  down 
Main  street,  thinking  I  certainly  saw  a  deer's  tail  at 
intervals  flying  through  the  woods,  two  gentlemen 
on  horseback  rode  deliberately  into  town.  They 
had  the  air  of  men  who  were  on  serious  business  ; 
and  as  they  dismounted  at  the  door  of  the  Monta 
cute  House,  a  messenger  was  despatched  in  an  in 
stant  to  Mr  Rivers.  Ere  long,  I  discovered  the  rud- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  193 

dy  papa  wending  his  dignified  way  towards  the 
Hotel,  while  the  President,  on  his  famous  trotter 
Greenhorn,  emerged  from  the  back-gate,  and  cleared 
the  ground  in  fine  style  towards  Tinkerville. 

A  full  hour  elapsed  before  the  elder  Mr  Rivers 
was  ready  to  accompany  the  gentlemen  on  their 
ride.  He  happened  to  be  going  that  way,  which 
was  very  convenient,  since  the  Bank  Commission 
ers,  for  our  portly  strangers  were  none  other,  did  not 
know  in  what  part  of  the  unsurveyed  lands  the  new 
city  lay.  The  day  \vas  far  spent  when  the  party 
returned  to  take  tea  with  Mrs  Rivers.  All  seemed 
in  high  good  humor.  The  examination  prescribed 
by  our  severe  laws  had  been  exceedingly  satisfacto 
ry.  The  books  of  the  Bank  were  in  apple-pie  order. 
Specie  certificates,  a  newly-invented  kind  of  gold 
and  silver,  were  abundant.  A  long  row  of  boxes, 
which  contained  the  sinews  of  peace  as  well  as  of 
war,  had  been  viewed  and  '  hefted  '  by  the  Commis 
sioners.  The  liabilities  seemed  as  nothing  compar 
ed  with  the  resources;  and  the  securities  were  as  sub 
stantial  as  earth  and  stone  could  make  them. 

If  the  height  of  prosperity  could  have  been  height 
ened,  Tinkerville  would  have  gone  on  faster  than 
ever  after  this  beneficent  visitation.  Mr  Rivers'  new 
furniture  arrived,  and  passed  through  our  humble 
village  in  triumphal  procession,  pile  after  pile  of 
huge  boxes,  provokingly  impervious  to  the  public 
eye ;  and,  last  of  all,  the  new  carriage,  covered  as 
closely  from  the  vulgar  gaze  as  a  celebrated  belle 
whose  charms  are  on  the  wane.  The  public  build 
ings  at  the  county  seat  were  proclaimed  finished,  or 
nearly  finished,  a  school-house  begun,  a  meeting 
house  talked  of;  but  for  the  latter,  it  was  supposed 
to  be  too  early — rather  premature. 


194  A      NEW     HOME, 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


And  whare  is  your  honors  gaun  the  day  wi'  a'  your  picks  and  shules?  *  * 

ANTIQUARY, 

On  peut  etrc  plus  fin  qu'un  autre,   mais  non  pas  plus  fin    que    tous    les 
autres.  ROCHEFOUCA.ULT. 

ALL  too  soon  came  the  period  when  I  must  part 
with  my  pleasant  neighbor  Mrs  Rivers,  the  opening 
brilliancy  of  whose  lot  seemed  to  threaten  a  lasting 
separation,  from  those  whose  way  led  rather  through 
the  '  cool,  sequestered  vale,'  so  much  praised  and  so 
little  coveted. 

Mr  Rivers  had  for  some  time  found  abundant 
leisure  for  his  favorite  occupations  of  hunting  and 
fishing.  The  signing  of  bills  took  up  but  little  time, 
and  an  occasional  ride  to  the  scene  of  future  glories, 
for  the  purpose  of  superintending  the  various  im 
provements,  was  all  that  had  necessarily  called  him 
away.  But  now,  final  preparations  for  a  removal 
were  absolutely  in  progress  ;  and  I  had  begun  to 
feel  really  sad  at  the  thought  of  losing  the  gentle 
Anna,  when  the  Bank  Commissioners  again  paced 
in  official  dignity  up  Main-street,  and,  this  time, 
alighted  at  Mr  Rivers'  door. 

The  President  and  Greenhorn  had  trotted  to 
Tinkerville  that  morning,  and  the  old  gentleman 
was  not  in  town  ;  so  our  men  of  power  gravely 


FOLLOW?  195 

wended  their  way  towards  the  newly-painted  and 
pine-pillared  honors  of  the  Merchants'  and  Manu- 
facturers'  Banking-house,  not  without  leaving  be 
hind  them  many  a  surmise  as  to  the  probable  object 
of  this  new  visitation. 

It  was  Mr  Skinner's  opinion,  and  Mr  Skinner  is 
a  long-headed  Yankee,  that  the  Bank  had  issued 
too  many  bills ;  and  for  the  sincerity  of  his  judg 
ment,  he  referred  his  hearers  to  the  fact,  that  he  had 
for  some  time  been  turning  the  splendid  notes  of  the 
Merchants'  and  Manufacturers'  Bank  of  Tinkerville 
into  wheat  and  corn  as  fast  as  he  conveniently 
could. 

A  sly  old  farmer,  who  had  sold  several  hundred 
bushels  of  wheat  to  Mr  Skinner,  at  one  dollar 
twenty-five  cents  a  bushel,  winked  knowingly  as 
the  merchant  mentioned  this  proof  of  his  own  far- 
seeing  astuteness  ;  and  informed  the  company  that 
he  had  paid  out  the  last  dollar  long  ago  on  certain 
outstanding  debts. 

Mr  Porter  knew  that  the  Tinkerville  blacksmith 
had  run  up  a  most  unconscionable  bill  for  the  iron 
doors,  &c.  &c.,  which  were  necessary  to  secure  the 
immense  vaults  of  the  Bank  ;  that  would  give,  as 
he  presumed,  some  hint  of  the  probable  object  of  the 
Commissioners. 

Mr  Simeon  Jenkins,  if  not  the  greatest,  certainly 
the  most  grandiloquent  man  in  Montacute,  didn't 
want  to  know  any  better  than  he  did  know,  that 
the  Cashier  of  the  Bank  was  a  thick-skull  ;  and  he 
felt  very  much  afraid  that  the  said  Cashier  had  been 
getting  his  principals  into  trouble.  Mr  Bite's  man 
ner  of  writing  his  name  was,  in  Mr  Jenkins'  view, 
proof  positive  of  his  lack  of  capacity  ;  since  '  nobody 
in  the  universal  world,'  as  Mr  Jenkins  averred,  'ever 


196  A     NEW      HOMEj 

wrote  such  a  hand  as  that,  that  know'd  anything 
worth  knowing.' 

But  conjectures,  however  positively  advanced,  are, 
after  all,  not  quite  satisfactory;  and  the  return  of  the 
Commissioners  was  most  anxiously  awaited  even  by 
the  very  worthies  who  knew  their  business  so  well. 

The  sun  set  most  perversely  soon,  and  the  light 
would  not  stay  long  after  him  ;  and  thick  darkness 
settled  upon  this  mundane  sphere,  and  no  word 
transpired  from  Tinkerville.  Morning  came,  and 
with  it  the  men  of  office,  but,  O  !  with  what  length 
ened  faces  ! 

There  were  whispers  of  {  an  injunction  ' — horrid 
sound  ! — upon  the  Merchants'  and  Manufacturers' 
Bank  of  Tinkerville. 

To  picture  the  dismay  which  drew  into  all  sorts 
of  shapes  the  universal  face  of  Montacute,  would 
require  a  dozen  Wilkies.  1  shall  content  myself 
with  saying  that  there  was  no  joking  about  the 
matter. 

The  Commissioners  were  not  very  communica 
tive  ;  but  in  spite  of  their  dignified  mystification, 
something  about  broken  glass  and  tenpenny  nails 
did  leak  out  before  their  track  was  fairly  cold. 

And  where  was  Harley  Rivers  ?  '  Echo  answers, 
where  / '  His  dear  little  wife  watered  her  pillow 
with  her  tears  for  many  a  night  before  he  returned 
to  Montacute. 

It  seemed,  as  we  afterwards  learned,  that  the 
Commissioners  had  seen  some  suspicious  circum 
stances  about  the  management  of  the  Bank,  and 
returned  with  a  determination  to  examine  into  mat 
ters  a  little  more  scrupulously.  It  had  been  found 
in  other  cases  that  certain  '  specie  certificates '  had 
been  locomotive.  It  had  been  rumored,  sine 3  the 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  197 

the  new  batch  of  Banks  had  come  into  operation, 
that 

Thirty  steeds  both  fleet  and  wight 

Stood  saddled  in  the  stables  day  and  night — 

ready  to  effect  at  short  notice  certain  transfers  of 
assets  and  specie.  And  in  the  course  of  the  Tinker- 
ville  investigation  the  Commissioners  had  ascertain 
ed  by  the  aid  of  hammer  and  chisel,  that  the  boxes 
of  the  c  real  stuff'  which  had  been  so  loudly  vaunt 
ed,  contained  a  heavy  charge  of  broken  glass  and 
tenpenny  nails,  covered  above  and  below  with  half- 
dollars,  principally  'bogus?  Alas,  for  Tinkervilie  ! 
and  alas,  for  poor  Michigan  ! 

The  distress  among  the  poorer  classes  of  farmers 
which  was  the  immediate  consequence  of  tbis  and 
other  Bank  failures,  was  indescribable.  Those  who 
have  seen  only  a  city  panic,  can  form  no  idea  of  the 
extent  and  severity  of  the  sufferings  on  these  occa 
sions.  And  how  many  small  farmers  are  there  in 
Michigan  who  have  not  suffered  from  this  cause? 

The  only  adequate   punishment  which  I  should  j 
prescribe    for   this   class    of    heartless    adventurers,  ; 
would  be   to  behold  at  one  glance  all  the   misery  ' 
they  have  occasioned  ;    to  be  gifted   with   an   As-  f 
modean  power,  and  forced  to  use  it.     The  Imrdiest  j  I 
among  them,  cqyld  scarcely,  I  think  endure  to  wit- 1 
ness  the  unroofing  of  the  humble  log-huts  of  Michi 
gan,  after  the  bursting  of  one  of  these  Dead-sea  ap--  I 
pies.     Bitter  indeed  were  the  ashes  which  they  scat-  ' 
tered  ! 

How  many  settlers  who  came  in  from  the  deep  i 
woods  many  miles  distant  where  no  grain  had  yet 
grown,  after  travelling  perhaps  two  or  three  days 
and  nights,  with  a  half-starved  ox-team,  and  living 
18 


198  A     NEW     HOME, 

on  a  few  crusts  by  the  way,  were  told  when  they 
offered  their  splendid-looking  bank-notes,  their  hard- 
arned  all,  for  the  flour  which  was  to  be  the  sole 
bod  of  wife  and  babes  through  the  long  winter,  that 
hese  hoarded  treasures  were  valueless  as  the  ragged 
)aper  which  wrapped  them  !  Can  we  blame  them 
f  they  cursed  in  their  agony,  the  soulless  wretches 
who  had  thus  drained  their  best  blood  for  the  fur- 
herance  of  their  own  schemes  of  low  ambition  ?  ) 
Can  we  wonder  that  the  poor,  feeling  such  wrongs 
as  these,  learn  to  hate  the  rich,  and  to  fancy  them, 
natural  enemies  ? 

(     Could  one  of  these  heart-wrung  beings  have  been 
i  introduced,  just  as  he  was,  with  the  trembling  yet  in 
his  heart,  and  the  curses  on  his  lips,  into  the  gilded  sa 
loon  of  his  betrayer,  methinks  the  dance  would  have 
i flagged,  the  song  wavered,  the  wine  palled,  for  the 
j  moment  at  least. 

Light  is  the  dance  and  doubly  sweet  the  lays 
When  for  the  dear  delight  another  pays — 

But  the  uninvited  presence  of  the  involuntary  pay- 
,  master,  would  have  been  '  the  hand  on  the  wall '  to 
jniany  a  successful  (!)  banker. 

After  public  indignation  had  in  some  measure 
subsided,  and  indeed  such  occurrences  as  I  have 
described  became  too  common  to  stir  the  surface  of 
society  very  rudely,  Mr  Harley  Rivers  returned  to 
Montacute,  and  prepared  at  once  for  the  removal  of 
his  family.  I  took  leave  of  his  \vife  with  most  sin 
cere  regret,  and  I  felt  at  the  time  as  if  we  should 
never  meet  again.  But  I  have  heard  frequently  from 
them  until  quite  lately  ;  and  they  have  been  living 
very  handsomely  (Mr  Rivers  always  boasted  that  he 
would  live  like  a  gentleman)  in  one  of  the  Eastern 
cities  on  the  spoils  of  the  Tinkerville  Wild  Cat. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  199 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


I  say  the  pulpit,  (and  I  name  it  filled 

With  solemn  awe,  that  bids  me  well  beware 

With  what  intent  I  touch  that  holy  thing.) 

COWPER. 

ONE  of  the  greatest  deficiencies  and  disadvan 
tages  of  the  settler  in  the  new  world,  is  the  lack  of 
the  ordinary  means  of  public  religious  instruction. 
This  is  felt,  not  only  when  the  Sabbath  morn  recurs 
without  its  call  for  public  worship,  and  children  ask 
longingly  for  that  mild  and  pleasing  form  of  relig 
ious  and  moral  training,  to  which  they  are  all  at 
tached  as  if  by  intuition  of  nature ;  but  it  makes 
itself  but  too  evident  throughout  the  entire  structure 
and  condition  of  society.  Those  who  consider  Re 
ligion  a  gloom  and  a  burden,  have  only  to  reside  for 
a  while  where  Religion  is  habitually  forgotten  or 
wilfully  set  aside.  They  will  soon  learn  at  least  to 
appreciate  the  practical  value  of  the  injunction,  'For 
sake  not  the  assembling  of  yourselves  together.' 

We  have  never  indeed  been  entirely  destitute  for 
any  length  of  time  of  the  semblance  of  public  wor 
ship.  Preachers  belonging  to  various  denominations 
have,  from  the  beginning,  occasionally  called  meet 
ings  in  the  little  log  school-house,  and  many  of  the 


200  A     NEW      HOME, 

neighbors  always  make  a  point  of  being  present,  al 
though  a  far  greater  proportion  reserve  the  Sunday 
for  fishing  and  gunning.  And  it  must  be  confessed 
that  there  has  generally  been  but  little  that  was  at 
tractive  in  the  attempts  at  public  service.  A  bare, 
cold  room,  the  wind  whistling  through  a  thousand 
crevices  in  the  unplastered  walls,  and  pouring  down 
through  as  many  more  in  the  shrunken  roof,  seats 
formed  by  laying  rough  boards  on  rougher  blocks, 
and  the  whole  covered  thick  with  the  week's  dirt  of 
the  district  school ;  these  are  scarcely  the  appliances 
which  draw  the  indolent,  the  careless,  the  indiffer 
ent,  the  self-indulgent,  to  the  house  of  worship. 
And  the  preacher,  '  the  messenger  of  Heaven,'  '  the 
legate  of  the  skies,' — Alas  !  I  dare  not  trust  my  pen 
to  draw  the  portraits  of  some  of  these  well-meaning, 
but  most  incompetent  persons.  I  can  only  say  that 
a  large  part  of  them  seem  to  me  grievously  to  have 
mistaken  their  vocation. 

'  All  are  not  such.'  We  have  occasionally  a 
preacher  whose  language  and  manner,  though 
plain,  are  far  from  being  either  coarse  or  vulgar, 
and  whose  sermons,  though  generally  quite  curious 
in  their  way,  have  nothing  that  is  either  ridiculous 
or  disgusting.  If  we  suffer  ourselves  to  be  driven 
from  the  humble  meeting-house  by  one  preacher 
with  the  dress  and  air  of  a  horse-jockey,  who  will 
rant  and  scream  till  he  is  obliged  to  have  incessant 
recourse  to  his  handkerchief  to  dry  the  tears  \\hich 
are  the  natural  result  of  the  excitement  into  which 
he  has  lashed  himself,  we  may  perhaps  lose  a  good 
plain  practical  discourse  from  another,  who  with 
only  tolerable  worldly  advantages,  has  yet  studied 
his  Bible  with  profit,  and  offers  with  gentle  persua 
siveness  its  message  of  mercy.  Yet  to  sit  from  two 


POL  LOW 


201 


to  three  hours  trying  to  listen  to  the  blubberer,  is  a 
trial  of  one's  nerves  and  patience  which  is  almost 
too  much  to  ask  ;  greater  I  confess,  than  I  am  often 
willing  to  endure,  well  convinced  as  I  am,  that  the 
best  good  of  all,  requires  the  support  of  some  form  of 
public  worship. 

I  have  often  been  a  little  amused  not  only  at  the 
very  characteristic  style  of  the  illustrations  which 
are  freely  made  use  of,  by  all  who  are  in  the  habit 
of  preaching  in  the  new  settlements,  but  at  the  ex 
treme  politeness  with  which  certain  rather  too  com 
mon  classes  of  sins,  are  touched  upon  by  these  pio-' 
neers  among  us.  They  belong  to  various  denomi 
nations,  and  they  are  well  aware  that  a  still  greater 
number  of  differing  sects  are  represented  in  their 
audience  ;  and  each  is  naturally  desirous  to  secure 
as  many  adherents  as  possible  to  his  own  view  of 
religious  truth.  It  becomes  therefore  particularly 
necessary  to  avoid  giving  personal  offence.  Does 
the  speaker  wish  to  show  the  evils  and  penalties  of 
sabbath-breaking,  of  profanity,  of  falsehood,  of  slan 
der,  of  dishonest  dealings,  or  any  other  offence  which 
he  knows  is  practised  by  some  at  least  among  his 
auditors,  he  generally  begins  with  observing  that  he 
is  quite  a  stranger,  very  little  acquainted  in  the 
neighborhood,  entirely  ignorant  whether  what  he  is 
going  to  say  may  or  may  not  be  especially  applica 
ble  to  any  of  his  hearers,  and  that  he  only  judges 
from  the  general  condition  of  human  nature,  that 
such  cautions  or  exhortations  may  be  necessary,  &c. 
exhibiting  a  constant  struggle  between  his  sense  of 
duty  and  his  fear  of  making  enemies. 

The  illustrative  style  to  which  I  have  alluded,  is 
certainly  much  better  calculated  to  excite  the  atten- 
18* 


202 


A     NEW     HOME, 


tion,  and  keep  alive  the  interest  of  an  unlettered  au 
dience,  than  the  most  powerful  argument  could  pos 
sibly  be.  but  it  is  sometimes  carried  so  far  that  the 
younger  part  of  the  congregation  find  it  hard  to 
maintain  the  gravity  befitting  the  time.  It  is  not 
long  since  I  heard  a  good  man  preach  from  the  text 
'  Behold  how  grer.t  a  matter  a  little  fire  kindleth.' 
He  began  by  saying  that  it  could  not  be  necessary  • 
to  show  the  literal  truth  of  this  observation  of  the 
Apostle ;  '  For  you  yourselves  know,  my  friends, 
especially  at  this  time  of  year,  when  most  of  you 
have  had  to  fight  fire  more  or  less,  how  easy  it  is  to 
kindle  what  is  so  difficult  to  put  out.  You  know 
that  what  fire  a  man  can  carry  in  his  hand,  applied 
to  the  dry  grass  on  the  marshes,  will  grow  so,  that 
in  ten  minutes  a  hundred  men  could  not  put  it  out, 
and,  if  you  don't  take  care,  it  will  burn  up  your  hay 
stacks  and  your  barns  too,  aye,  and  your  houses,  if 
the  wind  happens  to  be  pretty  strong.  And  if  you 
get  a  cannon  leaded  up  with  powder,  it  won't  take 
hut  a  leetle  grain  of  fire  to  produce  a  great  explosion, 
and  maybe  kill  somebody.  And  I  dare  say  that 
some  of  you  have  seen  the  way  they  get  along  in 
making  rail-roads  in  the  winter,  when  the  ground's 
froze  so  hard  that  they  can't  dig  a  bit ;  they  blast  off 
great  bodies  of  the  hard  ground,  just  as  they  blast 
rocks.  And  it  don't  take  any  more  than  a  spark  to 
set  it  a-going.  Even  so,  a  womaii's  tongue  can 
set  a  whole  neighborhood  together  by  the  ears,  and 
do  more  mischief  in  a  minute,  than  she  can  undo  in 
a  month.'  At  this  all  the  young  folks  looked  at 
each  other  and  smiled,  and  as  the  preacher  went  on 
in  a  similar  strain,  the  smile  was  frequently  repeated  ; 
and  such  scenes  are  not  very  uncommon. 

It  was  some  little  time  before  we  could  learn  the 


FOLLOW?  203 

rules  of  etiquette  which  are  observed  among  these 
itinerant  or  voluntary  preachers.  We  supposed  that 
if  a  meeting  was  given  out  for  Sunday  morning  at 
the  school-house  by  a  Baptist,  any  other  room  might 
be  obtained  and  occupied  at  the  same  hour  by  a 
Presbyterian  or  Methodist,  leaving  it  to  the  people 
to  choose  which  they  would  hear.  But  this  is  con 
sidered  a  most  ungenerous  usurpation,  and  such 
things  are  indignantly  frowned  upon  by  all  the 
meeting-goers  in  the  community.  If  a  minister  of 
any  denomination  has  appointed  a  meeting,  no  other 
must  preach  at  the  same  hour  in  the  neighborhood  : 
and  this  singular  notion  gives  rise  to  much  of  the 
petty  squabbling  and  ill-will  which  torments  Monta- 
cute  as  well  as  other  small  places. 

This  is  one  of  the  many  cases  wherein  it  is  easier 
to  waive  one's  rights  than  to  quarrel  for  them.  I 
hope,  as  our  numbers  increase  rapidly,  the  evil  will 
soon  cure  itself,  since  one  room  will  not  long  be 
elastic  enough  to  contain  all  the  church-goers. 

Of  the  state  of  religion,  a  light  work  like  this 
affords  no  fitting  opportunity  to  speak  ;  but  I  may 
say  that  the  really  devoted  Christian  can  find  no 
fairer  or  ampler  field.  None  but  the  truly  devoted 
will  endure  the  difficulties  and  discouragements  of 
the  way.'  '  Pride,  sloth,  and  silken  ease,'  find  no 
favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  fierce,  reckless,  hard-handed 
Wolverine.  He  needs 

A  preacher  such  as  Paul, 
Were  he  on  earth,  would  hear,  approve  and  own. 

Ministers  who  cannot  or  will  not  conform  them 
selves  to  the  manners  of  the  country,  do  more  harm 
than  good.  PRIDE  is,  as  I  have  elsewhere  observ 
ed,  the  bugbear  of  the  western  country  ;  and  the  ap- 


2(H  A     NEW     HOME) 

pearance  of  it,  or  a  suspicion  of  it,  in  a  clergyman, 
not  only  destroys  his  personal  influence,  but  depreci 
ates  his  office. 

It  takes  one  a  long  while  to  become  accustomed 
to  the  unceremonious  manner  in  which  the  meetings 
of  all  sorts  are  conducted.  Many  people  go  in  and  out 
whenever  they  feel  disposed ;  and  the  young  men, 
who  soon  tire,  give  unequivocal  symptoms  of  their 
weariness,  and  generally  walk  off  with  a  nonchalant 
air,  at  any  time  during  the  exercises.  Women  usual 
ly  carry  their  babies,  and  sometimes  two  or  three 
who  can  scarcely  walk ;  and  the  restlessness  of  these 
youthful  members,  together  with  an  occasional  dis 
play  of  their  musical  talents,  sometimes  interrupts 
in  no  small  measure  the  progress  of  the  speaker. 
The  stove  is  always  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  with 
benches  arranged  in  a  hollow  square  around  it ;  and 
the  area  thus  formed  is  the  scene  of  infantile  opera 
tions.  I  have  seen  a  dozen  people  kept  on  a  stretch 
during  a  whole  long  sermon,  by  a  little,  tottering, 
rosy-cheeked  urchin,  who  chose  to  approach  within 
a  few  inches  of  the  stove  every  minute  or  two,  and 
to  fall  at  every  third  step,  at  the  imminent  danger  of 
lodging  against  the  hot  iron.  And  the  mamma  sat 
looking  on  with  an  air  of  entire  complacency,  pick 
ing  up  the  chubby  rogue  occasionally,  and  varying 
the  scene  by  the  performance  of  the  maternal  office. 

I  fancy  it  would  somewhat  disconcert  a  city  cler 
gyman,  on  ascending  his  sumptuous  pulpit,  to  find 
it  already  occupied  by  a  deaf  old  man,  with  his  tin 
ear-trumpet  ready  to  catch  every  word.  This  I 
have  seen  again  and  again  ;  and  however  embar 
rassing  to  the  preacher,  an  objection  or  remonstrance 
on  the  subject  would  be  very  ill-received.  And  after 
all,  I  must  confess,  1  have  heard  sermons  preached 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  205 

in  such  circumstances,  which  would  have  reflected 
no  disgrace  on  certain  gorgeous  draperies  of  velvet 
and  gold. 

The  meliorating  influence  of  the  Sunday  school 
is  felt  here  as  every  where  else,  and  perhaps  here 
more  evidently  than  in  places  where  society  is 
farther  advanced.  When  books  are  provided,  the 
children  flock  to  obtain  them,  with  a  zest  proportion 
ed  to  the  scarcity  of  those  sweeteners  of  solitude. 
Our  little  Montacute  library  has  been  well-thumbed 
already,  by  old  and  young  ;  and  there  is  nothing  I 
long  for  so  much  as  a  public  library  of  works  better 
suited  to  :  children  of  a  larger  growth.'  But  '  le  bon 
temps  viendra,' 


206  A     NEW     HOME 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


There  is  a  cunning  which  we  in  England  call  '  the  turning  of  tha  c^t  in  the 
pan  ;'  which  is,  when  that  which  a  man  says  to  another,  he  lays  it  as  if  an 
other  had  said  it  to  him.  BACON. 


MY  near  neighbor,  Mrs  Nippers,  whose  garden 
joins  ours,  and  whose  £  keepin  room,'  I  regret  to 
say  it,  looks  into  my  kitchen,  was  most  cruelly  mor 
tified  that  she  was  not  elected  President  of  the  Mon- 
tacute  Female  Beneficent  Society.  It  would  have 
been  an  office  so  congenial  to  her  character,  condi 
tion,  and  habits  !  'Twas  cruel  to  give  it  to  Mrs 
Skinner,  '  merely,'  as  Mrs  Nippers  declares,  '  be 
cause  the  society  wanted  to  get  remnants  from  the 
store  !' 

Mrs  Campaspe  Nippers  is  a  widow  lady  of  some 
thirty-five,  or  thereabouts,  who  lives  with  her  niece 
alone  in  a  small  house,  in  the  midst  of  a  small  gar 
den,  in  the  heart  of  the  village.  I  have  never  no 
ticed  any  thing  peculiar  in  the  construction  of  the 
house.  There  are  not,  that  1  can  discover,  any 
contrivances  resembling  ears  ;  or  those  ingenious 
funnels  of  sail  cloth  which  are  employed  on  board- 
ship  to  coax  fresh  air  down  between-decks.  Nor 
are  there  large  mirrors,  nor  a  telescope,  within  doors, 
nor  yet  a  camera  obscura.  I  have  never  detected 
any  telegraphic  signals  from  without.  Yet  no  man 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  207 

sneezes  at  opening  his  front  door  in  the  morning  ; 
no  woman  sweeps  her  steps  after  breakfast  ;  no 
child  goes  late  to  school  ;  no  damsel  slips  into  the 
store  ;  no  bottle  out  of  it  ;  no  family  has  fried 
onions  for  dinner  ;  no  hen  lays  an  egg  in  the  after 
noon  ;  no  horse  slips  his  bridle  ;  no  cow  is  missing 
at  rnilking-time  ;  and  no  young  couple  after  tea  ; 
hut  Mrs  Nippers,  and  her  niece,  Miss  Artemisia 
Clinch,  know  all  about  it,  and  tell  it  to  everybody 
who  will  listen  to  them. 

A  sad  rumor  was  raised  last  winter,  by  some 
spiteful  gossip,  against  a  poor  woman  who  had  ta 
ken  lodgers  to  gain  bread  for  her  family  ;  and  when 
Mrs  Nippers  found  it  rather  difficult  to  gain  credence 
for  her  view  of  the  story,  she  nailed  the  matter,  as 
she  supposed,  by  whispering  with  mysterious  mean 
ing,  while  her  large  light  eyes  dilated  with  energy 
and  enjoyment — '  I  have  myself  seen  a  light  there 
after  eleven  o'clock  at  night  !' 

In  vain  did  the  poor  woman's  poor  husband,  a 
man  who  worked  hard,  but  would  make  a  beast  of 
himself  at  times,  protest  that  malice  itself  might  let 
his  wife  escape  ;  and  dare  any  man  to  come  for 
ward  and  say  aught  against  her.  Mrs  Nippers  only 
smiled,  and  stretched  her  eye-lids  so  far  apart,  that 
the  sky-blue  whites  of  her  light-grey  eyes  were  vis 
ible  both  above  and  below  the  scarce  distinguishable 
iris,  and  then  looked  at  Miss  Artemisia  Clinch  with 
such  triumphant  certainty  ;  observing,  that  a  drun 
kard's  word  was  not  worth  much.  It  is  impossible 
ever  to  convince  her,  in  any  body's  favor. 

But  this  is  mere  wandering.  Association  led  me 
from  my  intent,  which  was  only  to  speak  of  Mrs 
Nippers  as  connected  with  the  Montacute  Female 
Beneficent  Society.  This  Association  is  the  prime 


A     MEW     HOME) 

dissipation  of  our  village,  the  magic  circle  within 
which  lies  all  our  cherished  exclusiveness.  the  strong 
hold  of  ca.ite,  the  test  of  gentility,  the  temple  of 
emulation,  the  hive  of  industry,  the  mart  of  fashion, 
and  I  must  add,  though  reluctantly,  the  fountain  of 
village  scandal,  the  hot-bed  from  which  springs 
every  root  of  bitterness  among  the  petricoated  deni- 
jr.acute.  I  trust  the  importance  of  the 
Society  will  be  enhanced  in  the  reader's  estimation. 
by  the  variety  of  figures  I  have  been  compelled  to 
use  in  describing  it.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been 
enough  to  have  said  if.  is  a  Ladies'  Sewing  Society, 
and  so  saved  all  this  wordiness  ;  hut  i  like  to 
amplify. 

n  the  idea  was  first,  started,  by  I  know  not 
what  fortunate  individual, — Mrs  Nippers  doe-.  I 
dare  say, — this  -rune  widow-lady  espoused  the  thin g 
warmly,  donned  her  India-rubbers,  and  wont  all 
over  through  the  sticky  mud.  breakfasted  with  me, 
dined  with  Mrs  Rivers,  took  tea  with  Mrs  Skinner, 
and  sp.-iit  the  intervals  and  the  evening  with  half- 
a-dozen  other  people,  not  only  to  recommend  the 
plan,  but  to  give  her  opinion  of  how  the  affair  ought 
to  be  conducted,  to  what  benevolent  uses  applied, 
and  under  what  laws  and  by-laws  :  and  though 
la-t.  far  from  lea-.L  v,  ho  ought  to  be  its  officers. — 
Five  Directresses  did  she  select,  two  Secretaries,  and 
a  Treasurer,  Managers  and  Auditors,— like  the  mili 
tary  play  of  rny  three  brothers,  who  always  had 
;  fore-captain,'  {  hind-captain,'  and  •'  middle-captain,' 
but  no  privates.  But  in  all  this  Mrs  Campagpe 
never  once  hinted  the  name  of  a  Lady  President. 
-;.i<],  to  be  sure,  that  she  should  be  very  glad  to 
be  of  any  sort  of  service  to  the  Society  :  and  that 
from  her  position  she  should  be  more  at  leisure  to 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  209 

devote  time  to  its  business,  than  almost  any  other 
person  ;  and  that  both  herself  and  her  niece  had 
been  concerned  in  a  sewing-society  in  a  certain 
village  at  '  the  East,'  whose  doings  were  often  quo 
ted  by  both  ladies,  and  concluded  by  inquiring  who 
her  hearer  thought  would  be  the  most  suitable  pres 
ident. 

In  spite  of  all  this  industrious  canvassinr,  when 
the  meeting  for  farming  the  society  took  place  at 
Mrs  Skinner's,  Mrs  Campaspe  Nippers's  name  was 
perversely  omitted  in  the  animated  ballot  for  digni 
ties.  No  one  said  a  word,  but  every  one  had  a  sort 
of  undefined  dread  of  so  active  a  member,  and,  by 
tacit  consent,  every  office  which  she  had  herself 
contrived,  was  filled,  without  calling  upon  her.  Her 
eyes  grew  preternaturally  pale,  and  her  lips  wan  as 
whit-leather,  when  the  result  was  known  ;  but  she 
did  not  trust  herself  to  speak.  She  placed  her 
name  on  the  list  of  members  with  as  much  compo 
sure  as  could  be  looked  for,  under  such  trying  cir 
cumstances,  and  soon  after  departed  with  Miss  Ar 
temisia  Clinch,  giving  a  parting  glance  which  seem 
ed  to  say,  with  Sir  Peter  Teazle,  '  I  leave  my  char 
acter  behind  me.' 

A  pawkie  smile  dawned  on  two  or  three  of  the 
sober  visages  of  our  village  dames,  as  the  nil-know 
ing  widow  and  her  submissive  niece  closed  the  door, 
but  no  one  ventured  a  remark  on  the  killing  frost 
which  had  fallen  upon  Mrs  Nippcrs's  anticipated 
'  budding  honors,'  and,  after  agreeing  upon  a  meet 
ing  at  our  house,  the  ladies  dispersed. 

The  next  morning,  as  I  drew    my   window   cur 
tain,  to  see  whether  the  sun   had    aired    the  world 
enough  to  make  it   safe  for  me  to  get  up  to  break- 
19 


'-MO 


A     x  r.  w    n  o  M  r. 


I  do  not  often  dispute  the  /></>•  with  Aurora, 
I  saw  M;s  Nippers  emerge  from  the  little  (unit 
(fax  of  her  tiny  mansion,  unattended  by  her  niece 
to i  a  nurvel.  aiul  pace  majestically  down  Mam- 
•tMQl,  I  \\atched  her  in  >omotlnng  of  her  o\\  n 
pr\  ing  spirit,  to  see  \vliither  she  could  he  going1  so 
eail\  ;  but  she  disappeared  in  the  woods,  and  1 
mined  fo  m\  combs  and  brushes,  and  thought  no 
more  of  the  matter. 

But  the  next  day,  and  the  ne\t,  and  the  da\  af 
ter,  almost  as  early  each  morning,  out  trotted  my 
bu-\  neighbor  ;  and  although  she  disappeared  in 
.-ill  directions—sometimes  P.  S.  and  sometimes 
O,  P. — she  never  returned  till  late  in  the  afternoon. 
My  curiosity  began  to  be  troublesome. 

At  length  catne  the  much  desired  Tue>day.  whose 

-1    event  was    the  first  meeting  of  the  society. 

L  had  made  preparations  for    such  plain  and    simple 

cheer  a>  is  usual  at  such    feminine    i:alhering>.   and 

v    of  arranging  my  dress    with  the  de- 

OQrutn  recjuiiVvi   by    the    OCCCuaOQ,    when.  aUuit    one 

hour  Ivfoie  the  appointed  tune,  cam-    Mrs    Nippers 

and  Mi>s  I'linch,  and  ere  they  were  unshawled  and 

anhooded,  M>  Flyt    I    and  her  tlnee    childien — (he 

.     years,   .    .  \\nmgest    *i\   months. 

Then    M  -  -    and    her   crimson    baby,  four 

3  aid.      Close    on   her   heels.    Mrs  Hriggs  and 

her  little  boy  o:  three  years'  standing,  in   a 

long  tailed  cou(,  with  ve>l  and    decencies    of   scarlet 

ciicassian.      And  there  I  stood  in  my  ^m^li.im  wrap- 

;     much   to  my    di^omiituro 

an  I   the   undisguised  surprise  of    the    Female    Be- 

ftdl  Socieu. 

4  I    alwa\>    calculate   to  be   ready  t  t  the 

time  a^'-poin:ed.'  iemar:xed  the  gristle-lipped  widow. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  211 

1  So  do  I,'  responded  Mrs  Flyter  and  Mrs  Mug- 
gles,  both  of  whom  sat  the  whole  afternoon  with 
baby  on  knee,  and  did  not  sew  a  stitch. 

'  What  !  isn't  there  any  work  ready  ?'  continued 
Mrs  Nippers,  with  an  astonished  aspect  ;  '  well,  ! 
did  suppose  that  such  smart  officers  as  we  have 
would  have  prepared  all  beforehand.  We  always 
used  to,  at  the  East.' 

Mrs  Skinner,  who  is  really  quite  a  pattern-woman 
in  all  that  makes  woman  indispensable,  viz.  cookery 
and  sewing,  took  up  the  matter  quite  warmly,  just 
as  I  slipped  away  in  disgrace  to  make  the  requisite 
reform  in  my  costume. 

When  I  returned,  the  work  wyas  distributed,  and 
the  company  broken  up  into  little  knots  or  coteries  ; 
every  head  bowed,  and  every  tongue  in  full  play. 
J  took  my  seat  at  as  great  a  distance  from  the  sharp 
widow  as  might  be,  though  it  is  vain  to  think  of 
eluding  a  person  of  her  ubiquity,  and  reconnoitered 
the  company  who  were  '  done  off'  (indigenous.)  '  in 
first-rate  style,'  for  this  important  occasion.  There 
were  nineteen  wrornen  with  thirteen  babies — or  at 
least  l  young  'uns,'  (indigenous,)  who  were  not 
above  gingerbread.  Of  these  thirteen,  nine  held 
large  chunks  of  gingerbread,  or  dough-nuts,  in  trust, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  gowns  of  the  society  ;  the  re 
maining  four  were  supplied  with  bunches  of  ma 
ple  sugar,  tied  in  bits  of  rag,  and  pinned  to  their 
shoulders,  or  held  dripping  in  the  fingers  of  their 
mammas. 

Mrs  Flyter  was  *  slicked  up'  for  the  occasion,  in 
the  snuff-colored  silk  she  was  married  in.  curiously 
enlarged  in  the  back  and  not  as  voluminous  in  the 
floating  part  as  is  the  wasteful  custom  of  the  present 
day.  Her  three  immense  children,  wThite-haired 


212  A     NEW     HOME 


and  blubber-lipped  like  their  amiable  parent,  were  in 
pink  ginghams  and  blue  glass  beads.  Mrs  Nippers 
wore  her  unfailing  brown  merino,  and  black  apron  ; 
Miss  Clinch  her  inevitable  scarlet  calico  ;  Mrs  Skin 
ner  her  red  merino  with  baby  of  the  same  ;  Mrs 
Daker  shone  out  in  her  very  choicest  city  finery, — 
(where  else  could  she  show  it,  poor  thing  ?)  and  a 
dozen  other  Mistresses  shone  in  their  '  'tother 
gowns,'  and  their  tamboured  collars.  Mrs  Double- 
day's  pretty  blacjt-eyed  dolly  was  neatly  stowed  in 
a  small  willow  basket,  where  it  Jay  looking  about 
with  eyes  full  of  sweet  wonder,  behaving  itself  with 
marvellous  quietness  and  discretion,  as  did  most  of 
the  other  little  torments,  to  do  them  justice. 

Much  consultation,  deep  and  solemn,  was  held  as 
to  the  most  profitable  kinds  of  work  to  be  underta 
ken  by  the  society.  Many  were  in  favor  of  making 
up  linen,  cot  ton  linen  of  course,  but  Mrs  Nippers  assu 
red  the  company  that  shirts  never  used  to  sell  well  at 
the  East,  and  therefore  she  was  perfectly  certain  that 
they  would  not  do  here.  Pincushions  and  such 
like  feminilities  were  then  proposed  ;  but  at  these 
Mrs  Nippers  held  up  both  hands,  and  showed  a 
double  share  of  blue-white  around  her  eyes.  Nobo 
dy  about  here  needed  pincushions,  and  besides 
where  should  we  get  materials  ?  Aprons,  capes, 
caps,  collars,  were  all  proposed  with  the  same  ill 
success.  At  length  Mrs  Doubleday,  with  an  air  of 
great  deference,  inquired  what  Mrs  Nippers  would 
recommend. 

The  good  lady  hesitated  a  little  at  this.  It  wTas 
more  her  forte  to  object  to  other  people's  plans, 
than  to  suggest  better  ;  but,  after  a  moment's  con 
sideration,  she  said  she  should  think  fancy-boxes, 
watch-cases,  and  alum-baskets  would  be  very  pretty. 


FOLLOW?  213 

A  dead  silence  fell  on  the  assembly,  but  of  course 
it  did  not  last  long.  Mrs  Skinner  went  on  quietly 
cutting  out  shirts,  and  in  a  very  short  time  furnish 
ed  each  member  with  a  good  supply  of  work,  sta 
ting  that  any  lady  might  take  work  home  to  finish 
if  she  liked. 

Mrs  Nippers  took  her  work  and  edged  herself  in 
to  a  coterie  of  which  Mrs  Flyter  had  seemed  till 
then  the  magnet.  Very  soon  I  heard,  '  I  declare 
it's  a  shame  !'  *  I  don't  know  what'll  be  done  a- 
bout  it  !'  '  She  told  me  so  with  her  own  mouth  !' 
*  O,  but  I  was  there  myself  !'  etc.  etc.,  in  many 
different  voices  ;  the  intersticces  well  filled  with  un- 
distinguishable  whispers  '  not  loud  but  deep.' 

It  was  not  long  before  the  active  widow  transfer 
red  her  seat  to  another  corner  ; — Miss  Clinch  ply 
ing  her  tongue,  not  her  needle,  in  a  third.  The 
whispers  and  the  exclamations  seemed  to  be  gain 
ing  ground.  The  few  silent  members  were  in 
quiring  for  more  work. 

'  Mrs  Nippers  has  the  sleeve  !  Mrs  Nippers,  have 
you  finished  that  sleeve  ?' 

Mrs  Nippers  colored,  said  *  No,'  and  sewed  four 
stitches.  At  length  c  the  storm  grew  loud  apace.' 
'  It  will  break  up  the  society— 

'  What  is  that  ?'  asked  Mrs  Doubleday;  in  her 
sharp  treble.  l  What  is  it,  Mrs  Nippers  ?  You 
know  all  about  it.' 

Mrs  Nippers  replied  that  she  only  knew  what  she 
had  heard,  etc.etc.,  but,  after  a  little  urging,  consented 
to  inform  the  company  in  general,  that  there  was 
great  dissatisfaction  in  the  neighborhood  ;  that  those 
who  lived  in  log-houses  at  a  little  distance  from  the 
village,  had  not  been  invited  to  join  the  society  ; 
19* 


214  A      NFW     HOME, 

and  also  that  many  people  thought  twenty-five  cents 
quite  too  high,  for  a  yearly  subscription. 

Many  looked  aghast  at  tins.  Public  opinion  is 
nowhere  so  strongly  felt  as  in  this  country,  among 
new  settlers.  And,  as  many  of  the  present  com 
pany  still  lived  in  log-houses,  a  tender  string  was 
touched. 

At  length,  an  ok!  lady,  who  had  sat  quietly  in  a 
corner  all  the  afternoon,  looked  up  from  behind  the 
great  woollen  sock  she  was  knitting — 

'  Well  now  !  that's  queer  !'  said  she,  addressing- 
Mrs  Nippers  with  an  air  of  simplicity  simplified. 
1  Miss  Turner  told  me  you  went  round  her  neigh 
borhood  last  Friday,  and  told  that  Miss  Clavers  and 
Miss  Skinner  despised  every  body  that  lived  in  log- 
houses  ;  and  you  know  you  told  Miss  Briggs  that 
you  thought  twenty-five  cents  was  too  mucfi  ;  didn't 
she,  Miss  Briggs  ?'  Mrs  Briggs  nodded. 

The  widow  blushed  to  the  very  centre  of  her  pale 
eyes,  but  '  e'en  though  vanquished,'  she  lost  not  her 
assurance.  '  Why,  I'm  sure  I  only  said  that  we 
only  paid  twelve-and-a-half  cents  at  the  East  ;  and 
as  to  log-houses,  I  don't  know,  I  can't  just  recollect, 
but  1  didn't  say  more  than  others  did.' 

But  human  nature  could  not  bear  up  against  the 
mortification  ;  and  it  had.  after  all,  the  scarce  cred 
ible  effect  of  making  Mrs  INippers  sew  in  silence  for 
some  time,  and  carry  her  colors  at  half-mast  for  the 
remainder  of  the  afternoon. 

At  tea  each  lady  took  one  or  more  of  her  babies 
into  her  lap  and  much  grabbing  ensued.  Those 
who  wore  calicoes  seemed  in  good  spirits  and 
appetite,  for  green  tea  at  least,  but  those  who  had 
unwarily  sported  silks  and  other  unwashables,  look- 


FOLLOW?  215 

ed  acid  and  uncomfortable.  Cake  flew  about  at  a 
great  rate,  and  the  ruilk  and  water,  which  ought 
to  have  gone  quietly  down  sundry  juvenile  throats, 
was  spirted  without  mercy  into  various  wry  faces. 
But  we  got  through.  The  astringent  refreshment 
produced  its  usual  crisping  effect  upon  the  vivacity 
of  the  company.  Talk  ran  high  upon  almost  all 
Montacutian  themes. 

4  Do  you  have  any  butter  now  T  i  When  are 
you  going  to  raise  your  bam  ?'  '  Is  your  man  a 
going  to  kill,  this  week  ?'  '  1  ha'n't  seen  a  bit  of 
meat  these  six  weeks.'  '  Was  you  to  meetin'  last 
Sabbath  ?'  '  Has  Miss  White  got  any  wool  to 
sell  ?'  '  Do  tell  if  you've  been  to  Detroit  !'  *  Are 
you  out  of  candles  ?'  '  Well,  I  should  think  Sa 
rah  Teals  wanted  a  ne  .v  gown  !'  '  I  hope  we 
shall  have  milk  in  a  week  or  two,'  and  so  on  ;  for, 
be  it  known,  that,  in  a  state  of  society  like  ours,  the 
bare  necessaries  of  life  are  subjects  of  sufficient  in 
terest  for  a  good  deal  of  conversation.  More  than 
than  one  truly  respectable  woman  of  our  neighbor 
hood  has  told  me,  that  it  is  riot  very  many  years 
since  a  moderate  allowance  of  Indian  meal  and  po 
tatoes  was  literally  all  that  fell  to  their  share  of  this 
rich  world  for  weeks  together. 

'  Is  your  daughter  Isabella  well  ?'  asked  Mrs 
Nippers  of  me  solemnly,  pointing  to  little  Bell  who 
sat  munching  her  bread  and  butter,  half  asleep,  at 
the  fragmentious  table. 

'  Yes,  I  believe  so,  look  at  her  cheeks.' 

*  Ah  yes  !  it  was  her  cheeks  I  was  looking  at. 
They  are  so  very  rosy.  I  have  a  little  niece  who 
is  the  very  image  of  her.  I  never  see  Isabella  with 
out  thinking  of  Jerushy  ;  and  Jerushy  is  most 
dreadfully  scrofulous  !' 


216  A     NEW     HOME, 

Satisfied  at  having  made  me  uncomfortable,  Mrs 
Nippers  turned  to  Mrs  Doubleday,  who  was  trotting 
her  pretty  babe  with  her  usual  proud  fondness. 

'  Don't  you  think  your  baby  breathes  rather 
strangely  !'  said  the  tormentor. 

'  Breathes  !  how  !'  said  the  poor  thing,  off  her 
guard  in  an  instant. 

'  Why  rather  croupish,  I  think,  if  /  am  any 
judge.  I  have  never  had  any  children  of  my  own 
to  be  sure,  but  I  was  with  Mrs  Green's  baby  when 
it  died,  and— 

'  Come,  we'll  be  off  !'  said  Mr  Doubleday,  who 
had  come  for  his  spouse.  £  Don't  mind  the  envious 
vixen' — aside  to  his  Polly. 

Just  then,  somebody  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
room  happened  to  say,  speaking  of  some  cloth  af 
fair,  '  Mrs  Nippers  says  it  ought  to  be  sponged.' 

'  Well,  sponge  it  then,  by  all  means,'  said  Mr 
Doubleday,  '  nobody  else  knows  half  as  much  about 
sponging  ;'  and,  with  wife  and  baby  in  tow,  off 
walked  the  laughing  Philo,  leaving  the  widow  ab 
solutely  transfixed. 

'  What  could  Mr  Doubleday  mean  by  that  ?'  was 
at  length  her  indignant  exclamation. 

Nobody  spoke. 

1  I  am  sure,'  continued  the  crest-fallen  Mrs  Cam- 
paspe,  with  an  attempt  at  a  scornful  giggle,  '  I  am 
sure  if  any  body  understood  him,  1  would  be  glad 
to  know  what  he  did  mean.' 

{  Well  now,  I  can  tell  you  ;'  said  the  same  sim 
ple  old  lady  in  the  corner,  who  had  let  out  the  se 
cret  of  Mrs  Nippers's  morning  walks.  '  Some  folks 
call  that  sponging,  when  you  go  about  getting 
your  dinner  here  and  your  tea  there,  and  sich  like  ; 
as  you  know  you  and  Meesy  there  does.  That 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  217 

was  what  he  meant,  I  guess.'  And  the  old  lady 
quietly  put  up  her  knitting,  and  prepared  to  go 
home. 

TIjere  have  been  times  \vhen  I  have  thought 
that  almost  any  degree  of  courtly  duplicity  would 
be  preferable  to  the  brusquerie  of  some  of  my 
neighbors  :  but  on  this  occasion  I  gave  all  due 
credit  to  a  simple  and  downright  way  of  stating  the 
plain  truth.  The  scrofulous  hint  probably  brighten 
ed  my  mental  and  moral  vision  somewhat. 

Mrs  Nippers's  claret  cloak  and  green  bonnet,  and 
Miss  Clinch's  ditto  ditto,  were  in  earnest  requisition, 
and  1  do  not  think  either  of  them  spent  a  day  out 
that  week. 


218 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

We  will  rear  new  homes  under  trees  which  glow 
A§  if  gems  were  the  fruitage  of  every  bough  ; 
O'er  our  white  walls  we  will  train  the  vine 
And  sit  in  its  shadow  at  day's  decline. 

MRS  HEMANI. 

Alas  !   they  had  heen  friends  in  youth 
But  whispering  tongues  will  poison  truth. 

****** 
They  stood  aloof,  the  scars  remaining, — 
A  dreary  sea  now  Sows  between. 

COLERIDGE — CHRIST  ABEL. 

MANY  English  families  reside  in  our  vicinity, 
some  of  them  well  calculated  to  make  their  way 
any  where  ;  close,  penurious,  grasping  and  indefati 
gable  ;  denying  themselves  all  but  the  necessaries  of 
life,  in  order  to  add  to  their  lands,  and  make  the 
most  of  their  crops  ;  and  somewhat  apt  in  bargain 
ing  to  overreach  even  the  wary  pumpkin-eaters,  their 
neighbors  :  others  to  whom  all  these  things  seem  so 
foreign  and  so  unsuitable,  that  one  cannot  but  won 
der  that  the  vagaries  of  fortune  should  have  sent 
them  into  so  uncongenial  an  atmosphere.  The 
class  last  mentioned,  generally  live  retired,  and 
show  little  inclination  to  mingle  with  their  rustic 
neighbors  ;  and  of  course,  they  become  at  once  the 
objects  of  suspicion  and  dislike.  The  principle  of 
1  let-a-be  for  let-a-be '  holds  not  with  us.  Whoever 
exhibits  any  desire  for  privacy  is  set  down  as '  praoud,' 
or  something  worse  ;  no  matter  how  inoffensive,  or 
even  how  benevolent  he  may  be  ;  and  of  all  places 
in  the  world  in  which  to  live  on  the  shady  side  of 
public  opinion,  an  American  back-woods  settlement 


FOLLOW.  219 

is  the  very  worst,  as  many  of  these  unfortunately/ 
mistaken  emigrants  have  been  made  to  feel. 

The  better  classes  of  English  settlers  seem  to 
have  left  their  own  country  with  high-wrought  no 
tions  of  the  unbounded  freedom  to  be  enjoyed  in 
this  ;  and  it  is  with  feelings  of  angry  surprise  that 
they  learn  after  a  short  residence  here,  that  this  very 
universal  freedom  abridges  their  own  liberty  lo  do 
as  they  please  in  their  individual  capacity  ;  that  the 
absolute  democracy  which  prevails  in  country  places,' 
imposes  as  heavy  restraints  upon  one's  free-will  in 
some  particulars,  as  do  the  over-bearing  pride.  and;( 
haughty  distinctions  of  the  old  world  in  others ;  and 
after  one  has  changed  one's  whole  plan  of  life,  and 
crossed  the  wide  ocean  to  find  a  Utopia,  the  waking' 
to  reality  is  attended  with  feelings  of  no  slight  bit 
terness.  In  some  instances  within  my  knowledge 
these  feelings  of  disappointment  have  been  so  severe 
as  to  neutralize  all  that  was  good  in  American  life, 
and  to  produce  a  degree  of  sour  discontent  which 
increased  every  real  evil,  and  went  far  towards 
alienating  the  few  who  were  kindly  inclined  to 
ward  the  stranger. 

I  ever  regarded  our  very  intelligent  neighbors  the 
Brents,  as  belonging  to  the  class  who  have  emigrat 
ed  by  mistake,  they  seemed  so  well-bred,  so  well-ofT, 
so  amiable  and  so  unhappy.  They  lived  a  few 
miles  from  us,  and  we  saw  them  but  seldom,  far  less 
frequently  than  I  could  have  wished,  for  there  were 
few  whose  society  was  so  agreeable.  Mr  Brent  was 
a  handsome,  noble-looking  man  of  thirty,  or  perhaps 
a  little  more,  well-read,  and  passionately  fond  of 
literary  pursuits ;  no  more  fit  to  be  a  Michigan  far 
mer  than  to  figure  as  President  of  the  Texan  repub 
lic  ;  and  his  wife,  a  gentle  and  timid  woman,  very 
dependent  and  very  lovely,  was  as  ill  fitted  to  bear 


220  A     NEW     HOME, 

the  household  part  of  a  farmer's  lot.  But  all  this 
seemed  well-arranged,  for  the  farm  was  managed 
1  on  shares  '  by  a  stout  husbandman  and  his  family, 
tolerably  honest  and  trustworthy  people  as  times  go ; 
and  Mr  Brent  and  his  pale  and  delicate  Catherine 
disposed  of  their  hours  as  they  thought  proper ;  not 
however  without  many  secret  and  some  very  audi 
ble  surmises  and  wonderings  on  the  part  of  their 
immediate  neighbors,  which  were  duly  reported,  de 
voutly  believed,  and  invariably  added  to,  in  the 
cours3  of  their  diffusion  in  Montacute. 

1  might  repeat  what  I  heard  at  a  Montacute  tea- 
party  ;  I  might  give  Mrs  Flyter's  views  of  the  prob 
able  duration  of  Mr  Brent's  means  of  living  on  the 
occasion  of  having  learned  from  Mrs  Holbrook  that 
Mrs  Brent  did  not  see  to  the  butter-making,  and 
had  ir^ver  milked  a  cow  in  her  life.  I  might  repeat 
Mrs  Allerton's  estimate  of  the  cost  of  Mrs  Brent's 
dress  at  meeting  on  a  certain  Sunday.  But  I  shall 
only  tell  what  Mrs  Nippers  said,  for  I  consider  her 
as  unimpeachable  authority  in  such  [matters.  Her 
decided  and  solemn  assertion  was  that  Mrs  Brent 
was  jealous. 

1  Jealous  of  whom  ?  ' 

*  Why,  of  Mr  Brent  to  be  sure  ! ' 

'  But  it.  is  to  be  supposed  that  there  is  somebody 
else  concerned.' 

1  Ah,  yes  !  but  I  don't  know.  Mrs  Barton  didn't 
know.' 

*  O,  it  was  Mrs  Barton  who  told  you,  then  ? ' 
Mrs  Nippers  had  declined  giving   her  authority, 

and  Mrs  Barton  was  the  wife  of  Mr  Brent's  farmer. 
So  she  colored  a  little,  and  said  that  she  did  not 
wish  it  repealed,  as  Mrs  Barton  had  mentioned  it  to 
her  in  confidence.  But  since  it  had  come  out  by 
mere  chance,  she  didn't  know  but  she  might  just  as 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  221 

well  tell  that  Mrs  Barton  was  sure  that  Mrs  Brent 
was  jealous  of  somebody  in  England,  or  somebody 
that  was  dead,  sbe  didn't  know  which.  She  boped 
that  none  of  the  ladies  would  mention  it. 

There  were  some  fourteen  or  so  in  company,  and 
they  had  not  yet  had  tea.  'After  tea  the  poor  Brents 
were  completely  *  used  up,'  to  borrow  a  phrase  much 
in  vogue  with  us,  and  the  next  day  I  was  not  much 
surprised  at  being  asked  by  a  lady  who  made  me  a 
three  hours'  morning  call,  beginning  at  nine  o'clock, 
if  I  had  heard  that  Mr  and  Mrs  Brent  was  going  to 
'part.' 

I  declared  my  ignorance  of  any  thing  so  terrible, 
and  tried  to  trace  back  the  news,  but  it  must  have 
passed  through  several  able  hands  before  it  came  to 
me. 

We  rode  over  to  see  the  Brents  that  afternoon, 
found  them  as  usual,  save  that  Mrs  Brent  seemed 
wasting,  but  she  always  declared  herself  quite  well ; 
and  her  husband,  whose  manner  towards  her  is  that 
of  great  tenderness,  yet  not  exactly  that  of  husbands 
in  general,  a  little  constrained,  was  reading  aloud  to 
her  as  she  lay  on  the  sofa.  They  seemed  pleased 
to  see  us,  and  promised  an  afternoon  next  week,  to 
meet  a  '  few  friends,' — that  is  the  term,  I  believe,— 
but  not  Mrs  Nippers. 

Among  those  whom  I  invited  to  partake  our 
strawberries  and  cream  on  the  occasion,  were  Mr 
Cathcart  and  his  beautiful  wife,  English  neighbors 
from  a  little  vine-clad  cottage  on  the  hill  west  of  our 
village  ;  much  older  residents  than  the  Brents,  who 
had  not  yet  been  a  year  in  our  vicinity.  Mrs  Cath 
cart  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  I  have  ever 
seen,  and  certainly  a  very  charming  one  in  all  re 
spects,  at  least  to  me,  who  do  not  dislike  a  good 
20 


222  A      NEW     HOME 


share  of  spirit  and  energy  in  a  lady.  Her  spouse, 
though  far  different,  has  his  good  points,  and  can 
make  himself  agreeable  enough  when  he  is  in  the 
humor;  which  sometimes  occurs,  though  not  often, 
He  is  at  least  twenty  years  older  than  his  lady,  and 
as  ugly  as  she  is  handsome,  and  horribly  jealous,  1 
say  it  myself,  of  every  thing  and  every  body  which 
or  whom  Mrs  Cat  heart  may  chance  to  look  at  or 
speak  to,  or  take  an  interest  in,  gentle  or  simple, 
animate  or  inanimate.  It  is  really  pitiable  some 
times  to  see  the  poor  man  grin  in  the  effort  to  sup 
press  the  overboiling  of  his  wrath,  for  he  is  a  very 
polite  person,  and  generally  says  the  most  disagree 
able  things  with  a  smile. 

These  neighbors  of  ours  are  persons  of  taste — 
taste  in  pictures,  in  music,  in  books,  in  flowers  ;  and 
thus  far  they  are  well  mated  enough.  But  there 
are  certain  glances  and  tones  which  betray  to  the 
most  careless  observer  that  there  are  points  of  differ 
ence,  behind  the  scenes  at  least ;  and  little  birds 
have  whispered  that  after  Mrs  Cathcart  had  spent 
the  morning  in  transplanting  flowers,  training  her 
honeysuckles  and  eglantines,  and  trimming  the  turf 
seats  which  are  tastefully  disposed  round  their  pretty 
cottage,  Mr  Cathcart  has  been  seen  to  come  out  and 
destroy  all  she  had  been  doing  ;  ploughing  up  the 
neat  flower-beds  with  his  knife,  tearing  down  the 
vines,  and  covering  the  turf  sofas  with  gravel.  And 
the  same  little  birds  have  added,  that  when  Mr 
Cathcart,  sated  with  mischief,  turned  to  go  into  the 
house  again,  he  found  the  front-door  fastened,  and 
then  the  back-door  fastened;  and  after  striding  about 
for  some  time  till  his  bald  head  was  well  nigh  fried, 
he  was  fain  to  crawl  in  at  the  little  latticed  window, 
and  then but  further  these  deponents  say  not. 

Well !  our  little  strawberry  party  was  to  consist  of 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  223 

these  English  neighbors  and  some  others,  and  I 
made  due  provision  of  the  fragrant  rubies,  and  all 
the  et  ceteras  of  a  rural  tea-visit.  Roses  of  all  hues 
blushed  in  my  vases — a-hern  !  they  were  not  pitch 
ers,  for  the  handles  were  broken  off — and  forests  of 
asparagus  filled  the  fire-place.  Alice  and  Arthur 
figured  in  their  Sundays,  little  Bell  had  a  new  calico 
apron,  and  Charlie  a  shining  clean  face ;  so  we  were 
all  ready. 

First  of  all  came  the  Cathcarts,  and  their  one  only 
and  odd  son  of  three  years  old  ;  a  child  who  looked 
as  old  as  his  father,  and  walked  and  talked  most 
ludicrously  like  him.  It  did  seem  really  a  pity  that 
the  uncommonly  fine  eyes  of  his  beautiful  mamma 
had  not  descended  to  him  ;  those  large-pupilled  grey 
eyes,  with  their  long  black  lashes  !  and  her  richest 
of  complexions,  brighter  in  bloom  and  contrast  than 
the  sunniest  side  of  a  ripe  peach  ;  and  her  thousand 
graces  of  face  and  person.  But  there  he  was,  a 
frightful  little  dwarf,  just  what  his  father  would 
seem,  looked  at  through  a  reversed  telescope,  or  in 
a  convex  mirror.  And  Mr  Cathcart  was  all  smiles 
and  politeness,  and  brought  a  whole  pocket-full  of 
literary  novelties  lately  received  from  l  home.'  And 
Mrs  Cathcart,  always  charming,  looked  lovelier  than 
usual,  in  a  pale-colored  silk  and  very  delicate  orna 
ments. 

She  was  sitting  at  the  piano,  playing  some  bril 
liant  waltzes  for  the  children,  and  Mr  Cathcart  look 
ing  over  some  New- York  papers  which  lay  on  the 
table,  when  Mrs  Brent,  wan  and  feeble  as  usual, 
glided  into  the  room.  I  introduced  her  to  my 
guests,  with  whom  she  was  evidently  unacquainted, 
and  in  the  next  moment  Mr  Brent  entered. 

It  needed  but  one  glance  to  convince  me  that,  to 


224  A      NEW     HOME, 

Mrs  Cathcart  at  least,  there  was  no  occasion  to  in 
troduce  the  latest  comer.  She  half  rose  from  her 
seat,  painful  blushes  overspread  her  beautiful  counte 
nance,  and  instantly  subsiding  left  it  deathly  pale, 
while  Mr  Brent  seemed  equally  discomposed,  and 
Mr  Cathcart  gazed  in  undisguised  and  most  angry 
astonishment.  I  went  through  with  the  ceremony 
of  presentation  as  well  as  I  could,  awkwardly  enough, 
and  an  embarrassed  pause  succeeded,  when  in  walk 
ed  Mrs  Nippers  and  Miss  Clinch. 

1  Well,  good  folks,'  said  the  widow,  fanning  her 
self  with  a  wide  expanse  of  turkey's  feathers,  which 
generally  hung  on  her  arm  in  warm  weather ;  '  this 
is  what  you  may  call  toiling  for  pleasure.  Mrs 
Cathcart,  how  do  you  manage  to  get  out  in  such 
melting  weather  ?  Well  !  I  declare  you  do  all  look 
as  if  you  was  overcome  by  the  weather  or  something 
else  ! '  and  she  laughed  very  pleasantly  at  her  own 
wit. 

*  Warm  or  cool,  I  believe  we  had  better  return 
home,  Mrs  Cathcart,'  said  her  amiable  spouse  with 
one  of  his  ineffable  grins.  She  obeyed  mechanical 
ly,  and  began  putting  her  own  straw  bonnet  on  little 
Algernon. 

'  I  declare,'  said  the  agreeable  Mrs  Campaspe,  '  I 
thought — I  was  in  hopes  you  were  going  to  stay, 
and  we  could  have  had  such  a  nice  sociable  time  ; ' 
for  Mrs  Nippers  was  very  fond  of  inviting  company 
— to  other  people's  houses. 

'  No,  Madam  ! '  said  Mr  Cathcart,  '  we  must  go 
instantly.  Fanny,  what  are  you  doing  ?  Can't  you 
tie  the  child's  hat  ?  ' 

'  One  word,  sir  ! '  said  Mr  Brent,  whose  fine  coun 
tenance  had  undergone  a  thousand  changes  in  the 
few  moments  which  have  taken  so  many  lines  in 


FOLLOW 


225 


telling  ;  and  he  stepped  into  the  garden  path,  with  a 
bow  which  Mr  Cat  heart  returned  very  stiffly.  He 
followed  however,  and,  in  less  than  one  minute,  re 
turned,  wished  us  a  very  good  day  with  more  than 
the  usual  proportion  of  smiles — rather  grinnish  ones, 
'tis  true  ;  but  very  polite  ;  and  almost  lifting  his 
trembling  wife  into  the  vehicle,  which  still  stood  at 
the  gate,  drove  off  at  a  furious  rate. 

And  how  looked  the  pale  and  gentle  Catherine 
during  this  brief  scene  7  As  one  who  feels  the 
death-stroke  ;  like  a  frail  blighted  lily. 

And  beside  her  stood  in  silence 

One  with  a  brow  as  pale, 
And  white  lips  rigidly  compress'd 

Lest  the  strong  heart  should  fail. 

1  Your  ride  has  been  too  much  for  you,  Mrs  Brent,' 
said  I ;  '  you  must  rest  awhile  ; '  and  I  drew  her  in 
to  a  small  room  adjoining  the  parlor,  to  avoid  the 
industrious  eyes  of  Mrs  JNippers. 

She  spoke  not,  but  her  eyes  thanked  me,  and  I 
left  her,  to  receive  other  guests.  Mrs  Nippers  made 
a  very  faint  move  to  depart  when  she  began  to  per 
ceive  that  company  had  been  invited. 

1  Remain  to  tea,  Mrs  Nippers,'  I  said, — could  one 
say  less, — and  she  simpered,  and  said  she  was  hard 
ly  decent,  but and  added  in  a  stage-whisper,  '  If 

you  could  lend  me  a  smart  cap  and  cape,  I  don't 
know  but  1  would.'  So  she  was  ushered  in  due 
form  to  my  room,  with  unbounded  choice  in  a  very 
narrow  circle  of  caps  and  capes,  and  a  pair  of  thin 
shoes,  and  then  clean  stockings,  were  successively 
added  as  decided  improvements  to  her  array.  And 
when  she  made  her  appearance  in  the  state-apart 
ments,  she  looked,  as  she  said  herself, '  pretty  scrump- 
20* 


226  A     NEW     HOME, 

tious  ; '  but  took  an  early  opportunity  to  whisper,  *  I 
didn't  know  where  you  kept  your  pocket-handker 
chiefs.'  So  Alice  was  despatched  for  one,  and  the 
lady  was  complete. 

Mr  Brent,  with  Bella  in  his  arms,  paced  the  gar 
den  walk,  pretending  to  amuse  the  child,  but  evi 
dently  agitated  and  unhappy. 

'  Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  odd  ?  '  whispered 
Mrs  Nippers,  darting  a  glance  toward  the  garden. 

But,  fortunately,  the  person  honored  by  her  notice 
was  all  unconscious  ;  and  happening  to  observe  his 
wife  as  he  passed  the  low  window  in  the  little  west- 
room,  he  stopped  a  few  moments  in  low  and  earnest 
conversation  with  her.  It  was  not  long  before  Mrs 
Brent  appeared,  and,  apologizing  with  much  grace, 
said,  that  feeling  a  little  better,  she  would  prefer  re 
turning  home.  I  took  leave  of  her  with  regretful 
presentiments. 

In  less  than  a  week,  Mrs  Nippers  had  more  than 
she  could  attend  to.  The  Brents  had  left  the  coun 
try,  and  Mrs  Cathcart  was  alarmingly  ill.  The  un 
fortunate  strawberry-party  so  unexpectedly  marred 
by  this  rencontre,  was  the  theme  of  every  conven 
tion  within  five  miles,  to  speak  moderately  ;  and  by 
the  time  the  story  reached  home  again,,  its  own 
mother  could  not  have  recognized  it. 

A  letter  from  Mr  Brent  to  say  farewell  and  a  little 
more,  gave  us  in  few  words  the  outlines  of  a  sad 
story  ;  and  while  all  Montacute  is  ringing  with  one 
of  which  not  the  smallest  particular  is  lacking,  I  am 
not  at  liberty  to  disclose  more  of  the  'OWRE  TRUE 
TALE,'  than  the  reader  will  already  have  conjectur 
ed — '  a  priory  'tachrnent.' 

The  way  Mrs  Nippers  rolls  up  her  eyes  when  the 
English  are  mentioned  is  certainly  <  a  caution.' 


FOLLOW  ?  227 


CHAPTER  XXX  VL 


Away  with  these !   true  wisdom's  world  will  be 

Within  its  own  creation,  or  in  thine, 

Maternal  Nature!  *  *  * 

Are  not  the  mountains,  waves  and  skies  a  part 

Of  me  and  of  my  soul,  as  I  of  them? 

Is  not  the  love  of  these  deep  in  my  heart 

With  a  pure  passion  ? 

CHILDE  HAROLD. — Canto  III. 


WHEN  we  first  took  our  delighted  abode  in  the 
*  framed  house,'  a  palace  of  some  twenty  by  thirty 
feet,  flanked  by  a  shanty  kitchen,  and  thatched  with 
oak  shingles, — a  sober  neighbor,  who  having  passed 
most  of  his  life  in  the  country,  is  extremely  philo 
sophical  on  the  follies  of  civilization,  took  my  hus 
band  to  task  on  the  appearance  of  the  ghost  of  a 
departed  parlor  carpet,  which  he  said  was  'introdu 
cing  luxury.'  Whether  from  this  bad  example,  1 
cannot  tell,  but  it  is  certain  that  our  neighbors  are 
many  of  them  beginning  to  perceive  that  carpets 
c  save  trouble.'  Women  are  the  most  reasonable 
beings  in  the  world ;  at  least,  I  am  sure  nobody  ever 
catches  a  women  without  an  unanswerable  reason 
for  anything  she  wishes  to  do.  Mrs  Micah  Bal- 
whidder  only  wanted  a  silver  tea-pot,  because,  as  all 
the  world  knows,  tea  tastes  better  out  of  silver  ;  and 


228  A     NEW     HOME, 

Mrs  Primrose  loved  her  crimson  paduasoy,  merely 
because  her  husband  had  happened  to  say  it  became 
her. 

Of  the  mingled  mass  of  our  country  population, 

a  goodly  and   handsome  proportion — goodly  as  to 

numbers,  and  handsome  as  to  cheeks  and  lips,  and 

thews  and  sinews,  consists  of  young  married  people 

Just  beginning  the  world  ;    simple  in  their  habits, 

moderate  in  their  aspirations,  and  hoarding  a  little 

of  old-fashioned  romance,  unconsciously  enough,  in 

the  secret  nooks  of  their  rustic  hearts.     These  find 

no  fault  with  their  bare  loggeries.     With  a  shelter 

and  a  handful  of  furniture  they  have  enough.     If 

there  is  the  wherewithal  to  spread  a  warm  supper  for 

'  th'  old  man '  when  he  comes  in  from  work,  the 

young  wife  forgets  the  long,  solitary,  wordless  day, 

and  asks  no  greater  happiness  than  preparing  it  by 

the  help  of  such  materials  and  such  utensils  as  would 

be  looked  at  with   utter  contempt  in  a  comfortable 

kitchen  ;    and  then  the  youthful  pair  sit  down  and 

enjoy  it  together,  with  a  zest  that  the  '  orgies  par- 

faites '  of  the  epicure  can   never  awaken.     What 

lack  they  that  this  world  can  bestow  ?     They  have 

youth,  and  health,  and  love  and  hope,  occupation 

and  amusement,  and  when  you  have  added  '  meat, 

clothes,   and  fire,'  what  more   has  England's  fair 

young  queen  ?      These   people   are   contented,   of 

course. 

There  is  another  class  of  settlers  neither  so  nu 
merous  nor  so  happy  ;  people,  who  have  left  small 
farms  in  the  eastward  States,  and  come  to  Michigan 
with  the  hope  of  acquiring  property  at  a  more  rapid 
rate.  They  have  sold  off,  perhaps  at  considerable 
pecuniary  disadvantage,  the  home  of  their  early  mar 
ried  life ;  sacrificed  the  convenient  furniture  which 


FOLLOW?  229 

had  become  necessary  to  daily  comfort,  and  only 
awake  when  it  is  too  late,  to  the  fact  that  it  kills  old 
vines  to  tear  them  from  their  clinging-places.  These 
people  are  much  to  be  pitied,  the  women  especially. 

The  ladies  first 
'Gin  murmur — as  becomes  the  softer  sex. 

Woman's  little  world  is  overclouded  for  lack  of  the 
old  familiar  means  and  appliances.      The   husband 
goes  to  his  work  with  the  same  axe  or  hoe  which 
fitted  his  hand  in  his  old  woods  and  fields,  he  tills 
the  same  soil,  or  perhaps  a  far  richer  and   more 
hopeful  one — he  gazes  on  the  same  book  of  nature 
which  he  has  read  from  his  infancy,  and  sees  only 
a  fresher  and  more  glowing  page ;  and  he  returns  to 
his  home  with  the  sun,  strong  in  heart  and  full  of 
self-gratulation  on  the  favorable  change  in  his  lot. 
But  he  finds  the  home-bird  drooping  and  disconso 
late.     She  has  been  looking  in  vain  for  the  reflec 
tion  of  any  of  the  cherished  features  of  her  own  dear 
fire-side.      She  has  found  a  thousand  deficiencies 
whicTi  her  rougher  mate  can  scarce  be  taught  to 
feel  as  evils.      What  cares  he  if  the  time-honored 
cupboard  is  meagerly  represented  by  a  few  oak- 
boards  lying  on  pegs  arid  called  shelves  ?     His  tea- 
equipage  shines  as  it  was  wont — the  biscuits  can 
hardly  stay  on  the  brightly  glistening  plates.      Will 
he  find  fault  with   the  clay-built  oven,  or  even  the 
tin  '  reflector  ? '      His  bread  never  was  better  baked. 
Wliat  does  he  want  with  the  great  old  cushioned 
rocking-chair  ?     When   he  is  tired   he  goes  to  bed, 
for  he  is  never  tired  till  bed-time.     Women  are  the 
grumblers  in  Michigan,  and  they  have  some  apolo 
gy.     Many  of  them  have  made  sacrifices  for  which 
they  were  not  at  all  prepared,  and  which  detract 
largely  from  their  every-day  stores  of  comfort.    The 


230  A     NEW     HOME, 

conviction  of  good  accruing  on  a  large  scale  does  not 
prevent  the  wearing  sense  of  minor  deprivations. 

Another  large  class  of  emigrants  is  composed  of 
people  of  broken  fortunes,  or  who  have  been  unsuc 
cessful  in  past  undertakings.  These  like  or  dislike 
the  country  on  various  grounds,  as  their  peculiar 
condition  may  vary.  Those  who  are  fortunate  or 
industrious  look  at  their  new  home  with  a  kindly 
eye.  Those  who  learn  by  experience  that  idlers  are 
no  better  off  in  Michigan  than  elsewhere,  can  find 
no  term  too  virulent  in  which  to  express  their  angry 
disappointment.  The  profligate  and  unprincipled 
lead  stormy  and  uncomfortable  lives  any  where ; 
and  Michigan,  now  at  least,  begins  to  regard  such 
characters  among  her  adopted  children,  with  a  stern 
and  unfriendly  eye,  so  that  the  few  who  may  have 
come  among  us,  hoping  for  the  unwatched  and  un 
bridled  license  which  we  read  of  in  regions  nearer 
to  the  setting  sun,  find  themselves  marked  and 
shunned  as  in  the  older  world. 

As  women  feel  sensibly  the  deficiencies  of  the 
t  salvage  '  state,  so  they  are  the  first  to  attempt  the 
refining  process,  the  introduction  of  those  important 
nothings  on  which  so  much  depends.  Small  addi 
tions  to  the  more  delicate  or  showy  part  of  the 
household  gear  are  accomplished  by  the  aid  of  some 
little  extra  personal  exertion.  '  Spinning  money  ' 
buys  a  looking-glass  perhaps,  or  '  butter  money  '  a 
nice  cherry  table.  Eglantines  and  wood-vine,  or 
wild-cucumber,  are  sought  and  transplanted  to 
shade  the  windows.  Narrow  beds  round  the  house 
are  bright  with  balsams  and  sweet-williams,  four- 
o'clocks,  poppies  and  marigolds  ;  and  if  '  th'  old 
man  '  is  good  natured,  a  little  gate  takes  the  place 
of  the  great  awkward  bars  before  the  door.  By 


FOLLOW?  231 

and  by  a  few  apple-trees  are  set  out ;  sweet  briers 
grace  the  door  yard,  and  lilacs  and  currant-bushes  ; 
all  by  female  effort — at  least  I  have  never  yet  hap 
pened  to  see  it  otherwise  where  these  improvements 
have  been  made  at  all.  They  are  not  all  accom 
plished  by  her  own  hand  indeed,  but  hers  is  the 
moving  spirit,  and  if  she  do  her  *  spiriting  gently,' 
and  has  anything  but  a  Caliban  for  a  minister,  she 
can  scarcely  fail  to  throw  over  the  real  homeliness 
of  her  lot  something  of  the  magic  of  that  IDEAL 
which  has  been  truly  sung— 

Nymph  of  our  soul,  and  brightener  of  our  being; 
She  makes  the  common  waters  musical — 
Binds  the  rude  night-winds  in  a  silver  thrall, 
Bids  Hybla's  thyme  and  Tempo's  violet  dwell 
Round  the  green  marge  of  her  moon-haunted  cell. 
******* 

This  shadowy  power,  or  power  of  shadows,  is  the 
'  arch-vanquisher  of  time  and  care '  every  where ; 
but  most  of  all  needed  in  the  waveless  calm  of  a 
strictly  woodland  life,  and  there  most  enjoyed.  The 
lovers  of  '  unwritten  poetry '  may  find  it  in  the  daily 
talk  of  our  rustic  neighbors — in  their  superstitions — 
in  the  remedies  which  they  propose  for  every  ill  of 
humanity,  the  ideal  makes  the  charm  of  their  life  as 
it  does  that  of  all  the  world's,  peer  and  poet,  wood 
cutter  and  serving-maid. 

After  allowing  due  weight  to  the  many  disadvan 
tages  and  trials  of  a  new-country  life,  it  would  scarce 
be  fair  to  pass  without  notice  the  compensating  pow 
er  of  a  feeling,  inherent  as  1  believe,  in  our  universal 
nature,  which  rejoices  in  that  freedom  from  the  re 
straints  of  pride  and  ceremony  which  is  found  only 
in  a  new  country.  To  borrow  from  a  brilliant 
writer  of  our  own,  '  I  think  we  have  an  instinct, 


232  A     NEW     HOME, 

dulled  by  civilization,  which  is  like  the  caged 
eaglet's,  or  the  antelope's  (hat  is  reared  in  the 
Arab's  tent ;  an  instinct  of  nature  that  scorns  boun 
dary  and  chain  ;  that  yearns  to  the  free  desert ;  that 
would  have  the  earth  like  the  sky,  unappropriated 
and  open ;  that  rejoices  in  immeasurable  liberty  of 
foot  and  dwelling-place,  and  springs  passionately 
back  to  its  freedom,  even  after  years  of  subduing 
method  and  spirit-breaking  confinement ! ' 

This  'instinct,'  so  beautifully  noticed  by  Willis,  is 
what  I  would  point  to  as  the  compensating  power 
of  the  wilderness.  Those  who  are  '  to  the  manor 
born '  feel  this  most  sensibly,  and  pity  with  all  their 
simple  hearts  the  walled-up  denizens  of  the  city. 
And  the  transplanted  ones — those  who  have  been 
used  to  no  forests  but  '  forests  of  chimneys,'  though 
'  the  parted  bosom  clings  to  wonted  home,'  soon 
learn  to  think  nature  no  step-mother,  and  to  discov 
er  many  redeeming  points  even  in  the  half-wild 
state  at  first  so  uncongenial. 

That  this  love  of  unbounded  and  unceremonious 
liberty  is  a  natural  and  universal  feeling,  needs  no 
argument  to  show  ;  I  am  only  applying  it  on  a 
small  scale  to  the  novel  condition  in  which  I  find 
myself  in  the  woods  of  Michigan.  I  ascribe  much 
of  the  placid  contentment,  which  seems  the  heritage 
of  rural  life,  to  the  constant  familiarity  with  woods 
and  waters — 

All  that  the  genial  ray  of  morning  gilds, 
And  all  that  echoes  to  the  song  of  even  ; 

All  that  the  mountain's  sheltering  bosom  yields, 
And  all  the  dread  magnificence  of  heaven — 

to  the  harmony  which  the  Creator  has  instituted 
between  the  animate  and  inanimate  works  of  His 
hands. 


FOLLOW?  233 

Authorities  crowd  upon  me,  and  I  must  be  allow 
ed  to  close  my  chapter  with  a  favorite  paragraph 
from  Hazlitt. 

:  The  heart  reposes  in  greater  security  on  the  im 
mensity  of  Nature's  works,  expatiates  freely  there, 
and  finds  elbow-room  and  breathing-space.  We  are 
always  at  home  with  Nature.  There  is  neither 
hypocrisy,  caprice,  nor  mental  reservation  in  her  fa 
vors.  Our  intercourse  with  her  is  not  liable  to  acci 
dent  or  change,  suspicion  or  disappointment:  she 
smiles  on  us  still  the  same.  *  *  In  our  love  of  Na 
ture,  there  is  all  the  force  of  individual  attachment, 
combined  with  the  most  airy  abstraction.  It  is  this 
circumstance  which  gives  that  refinement,  expansion 
and  wild  interest  to  feelings  of  this  sort.  Thus 

Nature  is  a  sort  of  universal  home,  and  every  object 
it  presents  to  us  an  old  acquaintance,  with  unal 
tered  looks ;  for  there  is  that  constant  and  mutual 
harmony  among  all  her  works — one  undivided  spirit 
pervading  them  throughout — that  to  him  who  has 
well  acquainted  himself  with  them,  they  speak  al 
ways  the  same  well-known  language,  striking  on 
the  heart  amidst  unquiet  thoughts  and  the  tumult 
of  the  world,  like  the  music  of  one's  native  tongue 
heard  in  some  far-off  country.' 


21 


234 


A     NEW 


CHAPTER  XXXVII, 


Per  mozz'  i  boschi  inospili  e  sjlvaggi 

Onde  vanno  a  gran  rischio  uoniini,  ed  arme 

Vo  secur'  io  ;  ciio  nixi  pti<i  gpaventarme 

Altri,  che  '1  So!,— 

E  vo  cantando — 

Ilaro  mi  silenzio,  un  solitario  orrore 

I>'omt>rtwa  sclva  mai  tunto  mi  piacquo. 

FxriuncA,  Son.  CXLir. 


A  BRIDLE-PATH  through  the  deep  woods  which 
lie  south-wesl.  of  our  village  had  long  been  a  favo 
rite  walk  on  those  few  days  of  our  boreal  summerr 
when  shade  had  seemed  an  essential  element  of 
comfort.  The  forest  itself  is  so  entirely  cumber 
ed  with  shrubs  and  tangled  vines,  that  to  effect  even 
a  narrow  path  through  it  had  been  a  work  of  no 
little  time  and  labor  ;  and,  as  no  money  was  likely 
to  flow  in  upon  us  from  that  direction,  I  had  no 
fears  of  a  road,  but  considered  the  whole  as  a  mag 
nificent  pleasaunce  for  the  special  delight  of  those 
who  can  discern  glory  and  splendor  in  grass  and 
wild-flowers. 

We  lacked  not  carpets,  for  there  was  the  velvet 
sward,  embroidered  with  blossoms,  whose  gemmy 
tints  can  never  be  equalled  in  Brussels  or  in  Persia  ; 
nor  canopy,  for  an  emerald  dome  was  over  us,  full 
of  trembling  light,  and  festooned  and  tasselled  with 
the  starry  eglantine,  the  pride  of  our  Wes'em 
woods  ;  nor  pillars,  nor  arches  ;  for,  O  beloved  for- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  235 

ests  of  my  country  !  where  can  your  far-sounding 
aisles  be  matched  for  grandeur,  your  '  alleys  green' 
for  beauty  ?  We  had  music  too,  fairy  music, 
'  gushes  of  wild  song,'  soft,  sighing  murmurs,  such 
as  flow  from 

The  convolutions  of  a  smooth-lipped  shell, 

and  recalling,  like  those  other  murmurs,  the  sum 
mer  swell  or  the  distant  ocean  ;  and  withal,  the 
sound  of  a  bubbling  stream,  which  was  ever  and 
anon  sweetly  distinct  amid  the  delicate  harmony. 

Many  a  dreamy  hour  have  I  wandered  in  this 
delicious  solitude,  not  '  hook-bosomed  ;'  for,  at  such 
times,  my  rule  is  peu  lire,  penser  beaucoup  •  nor 
yet  moralizing,  like  the  melancholy  Jaques,  on  the 
folly  and  inconstancy  of  the  world  ;  but  just  '  daun- 
dering,'  to  borrow7  an  expression  from  Mr  Gait  ; 
perhaps  Fanny  Kemble  would  have  said  '  dawd 
ling  ;'  so  I  leave  the  choice  with  my  reader,  and 
make  an  effort  to  get  on  with  my  story,  which  seems 
as  much  inclined  to  loiter  in  my  favorite  wocd  as  I 
am  myself. 

I  had  never  ventured  far  from  Montacute  in  n*y 
strolls  with  the  children,  or  with  my  female  friends. 
To  say  nothing  of  my  sad  paresse,  1  hate  it  in  En 
glish  ;  but  '  'tis  not  half  so  shocking  in  French  :' 
not  to  mention  that  at  all,  there  are  other  '  lions  in 
the  way  ;'  massasaugas  for  instance,  and  Indians, 
and  blue  racers,  six  or  eight  feet  long,  and  as  thick 
as  a  man's  arm  ;  '  harmless,'  say  the  initiated,  but 
fen  doute,  and  my  prime  and  practical  favorite 
among  mottoes  and  maxims,  is  '  'ware  snakes  !' 
then  toads  ;  but  if  I  once  mount  a  toad,  I  shall  not 
get  back  this  great  while. 

It  so  happened  that  one  morning  when  the  atmos 
phere  was  particularly  transparent,  and  the  shower- 


236  A     NEW     HOME, 

laid  earth  in  delicious  order  for  a  ride,  I  had  an  in 
vitation  from  my  husband  for  a  stroll — a  '  splorifi- 
cation'  on  horseback  ;  and  right  joyously  did  J 
endue  myself  with  the  gear  proper  to  such  wood 
craft,  losing  not  a  moment,  for  once,  that  I  might 
be  ready  for  my  '  beautiful  Orelio,'  old  Jupiter, 
when  he  should  come  round.  We  mounted,  and 
sought  at  once  the  dim  wood  of  which  I  have  been 
speaking. 

We  followed  the  bridle-path  for  miles,  finding 
scarcely  a  trace  of  human  life.  We  scared  many  a 
grey  rabbit,  and  many  a  bevy  of  quails,  and  started 
at  least  one  noble  buck  ;  /  said  two,  but  may  be 
the  same  one  was  all  around  us,  for  so  it  seemed.  I 
took  the  opportunity  of  trying  old  Jupiter's  nerves 
and  the  woodland  echoes,  by  practising  poor  Mali- 
bran's  '  Tourment  d'Amour,1  at  the  expense  of  the 
deepest  recess  of  my  lungs,  while  my  companion 
pretended  to  be  afraid  he  could  not  manage  Prince, 
and  finally  let  him  go  off  at  half  speed.  Old  Ju 
piter,  he  is  deaf  1  believe,  jogged  on  as  before,  and  I 
still  amused  myself  by  arousing  the  Dryads,  and 
wondering  whether  they  ever  heard  a  Swiss  refrain 
before,  when  I  encountered  a  sportsman,  belted, 
pouched,  gunned,  and  dogged,  quite  comme  il 
faut,  and  withal,  wearing  very  much  such  a  face 
as  Adonis  must  have  looked  at  when  he  arrayed 
himself  at  the  fountain. 

What  an  adventure  for  a  sober  village  matron  ! 
I  almost  think  I  must  have  blushed.  At  least  I  am 
sure  I  must  have  done  so  had  the  affair  happened 
only  ten  years  earlier. 

J  thought  seriously  of  apologizing  to  the  stranger 
for  singing  in  the  woods,  of  which  he  seemed  like 
the  tutelar  deity  ;  but  fortunately  Mr  Clavers  at 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  237 

this  moment  returned,  and  soon  engaged  him  in 
conversation  ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  offered 
to  show  us  a  charming  variety  in  the  landscape,  if 
we  would  ride  on  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 

We  had  been  traversing  a  level  tract,  which  we 
had  supposed  lay  rather  low  than  high.  In  a  few 
minutes,  we  found  ourselves  on  the  very  verge  of  a 
miniature  precipice  ;  a  bluff  which  overhung  what 
must  certainly  have  been  originally  a  lake,  though 
it  is  now  a  long  oval-shaped  valley  of  several  miles 
in  extent,  beautifully  diversified  with  wood  and 
prairie,  and  having  a  lazy,  quiet  stream  winding 
through  it,  like — like — '  like  a  snake  in  a  bottle  of 
spirits  ;'  or  like  a  long  strip  of  apple-paring,  when 
you  have  thrown  it  over  your  head  to  try  what 
letter  it  will  make  on  the  carpet  ;  or  like  the  course 
of  a  certain  great  politician  whom  \ve  all  knowV  My 
third  attempt  hits  it  exactly,  neither  of  the  others 
was  crooked  enough. 

The  path  turned  short  to  the  right,  and  began, 
not  far  from  where  we  stood,  to  descend,  as  if  to 
reach  at  some  distance  and  by  a  wide  sweep,  the 
green  plain  below  us.  This  path  looked  quite 
rocky  and  broken  ;  so  much  so,  that  1  longed  to 
try  it,  but  my  companion  thought  it  time  to  return 
home. 

*  Let  me  first  have  the  pleasure  of  showing  you 
my  cottage,'  said  our  handsome  guide,  wrhose  air 
had  a  curious  mixture  of  good-breeding  with  that 
sort  of  rustic  freedom  and  abruptness,  which  is  the 
natural  growth  of  the  wilderness.  As  he  spoke,  he 
pointed  out  a  path  in  the  wood,  which  we  could 
not  help  following,  and  which  brought  us  in  a  few 
minutes  to  a  beautiful  opening,  looking  on  the  basin 
below  the  bluff  on  one  side,  and  on  the  deep  woods 
21* 


238  A     NEW     HOME, 

on  the  other.  And  there  was  a  long,  low,  irregu 
larly-shaped  house,  built  of  rich  brown  tamarack 
logs,  nearly  new,  and  looking  so  rural  and  lovely 
that  I  longed  to  alight.  Every  thing  about  the 
house  was  just  as  handsome  and  picturesque-look 
ing  as  the  owner  ;  and  still  more  attractive  was  the 
fair  creature  who  was  playing  with  a  little  girl  un 
der  the  tall  oaks  near  the  cottage.  She  came  for 
ward  to  welcome  us  with  a  grace  which  was  evi 
dently  imported  from  some  civilized  region  ;  and  as 
she  drew  near,  1  recognized  at  once  an  old  school- 
friend  :  the  very  Cora  Mansfield  who  used  to  be  my 
daughter  at  Mrs  -  — 's  ;  at  least  the  dozenth 
old  acquaintance  I  have  met  accidentally  since  we 
came  to  the  new  world. 

Mutual  introductions  of  our  honored  spouses 
were  now  duly  performed,  and  we  of  Montacute  did 
not  refuse  to  alight  and  make  such  short  tarry  with 
our  ten-mile  neighbors,  as  the  lateness  of  the  hour 
permitted.  We  found  the  house  quite  capacious 
and  well  divided,  and  furnished  as  neatly  though  far 
less  ostentatiously  than  a  cottage  ornie  in  the  vicin 
ity  of  some  great  metropolis.  There  was  a  great 
chintz-covered  sofa — a  very  jewel  for  youi  siesta — 
and  and  some  well-placed  lounges  ;  and,  in  an  em 
bayed  window  draperied  with  wild  vines,  a  reading- 
chair  of  the  most  luxurious  proportions,  with  its 
foot-cushion  and  its  prolonged  rockers.  Neat,  com 
pact  presses,  filled  with  books,  new  as  well  as  old, 
and  a  cabinet  piano-forte,  made  up  nearly  all  the 
plenishin',  but  there  was  enough.  The  whole  was 
just  like  a  young  lady's  dream,  and  Cora  and  her 
Thalaba  of  a  husband  looked  just  fit  to  enjoy  it. 

The  contrast  was  amusing  enough  when  I  re 
called  where  I  had  last  seen  Cora.  It  was  at  a 


FOLLOW?  239 

fancy  ball  at  Mrs  L 's,  when  she  was  a  little, 

dimpled,  pink-and-silver  maid  of  honor  to  Mary  of 
Scots,  or  some  such  great  personage,  flitting  about 
like  a  humm ing-bird  over  a  honey-suckle,  and  flirt 
ing  most  atrociously  with  the  half-fledged  little 
beaux  who  hung  on  her  footsteps.  She  looked  far 
lovelier  in  her  woodland  simplicity,  to  my  simplified 
eyes  at  least.  She  had  not,  to  be  sure,  a  '  sweet 
white  dress,'  with  straw-colored  kid  gloves,  and  a 
dog  tied  to  a  pink  ribbon,  like  '  the  fair  Curranjel,' 
but  she  wore  a  rational,  home-like  calico — '  hor 
rors  !'  I  hear  my  lady  readers  exclaim— ay,  a  cali 
co,  neatly  fitted  to  her  beautiful  figure  ;  and  her 
darkly-bright  eyes  beamed  not  less  archly  beneath 

her  waving  locks  than  they  had  done years 

before.  You  did  not  think  I  was  going  to  tell, 
did  you  ? 

Two  hundred  and  forty  questions,  at  a  moderate 
guess,  and  about  half  as  many  answers,  passed  be 
tween  us,  while  Mr  Hastings — didn't  I  say  his 
name  was  Hastings  ? — was  showing  Mr  Clavers 


his  place.  Cora  and  I  had  no  leisure  for  statistics  or 
economics  on  this  our  first  rencontre.  She  rocked 
the  basket-cradle  with  her  foot,  and  told  me  all  about 
her  two  little  daughters  ;  and  I  had  a  good  deal  to 
say  of  the  same  sort  ;  and  at  length,  when  superior 
authority  said  we  could  not  stay  one  moment  lon 
ger,  we  cantered  off,  with  promises  of  re-union, 
which  have  since  been  amply  redeemed  on  both 
sides.  And  now  shall  I  tell,  all  in  due  form,  what 
I  have  gathered  from  Cora's  many  talks,  touching  a 
wild  prank  of  hers  ?  She  said  I  might,  and  I  will, 
with  the  reader's  good  leave. 


240  A     NEW     HOME, 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


Love  But  on   a   Lotus-leaf  afloat, 
.And  saw   old   Time  in    his   loaded  boat  5 
Slowly  he   cross'd   Life's   narrow  tide, 
While   Love  eat  clapping  his   wings   and  cried, 
Who   will  pass   7ime  ? 


EVERARD  HASTINGS,  a  tall,  bright-haired,  ele 
gant-looking  boy  of  nineteen,  handsome  as  Antin- 
ous,  and  indolent  as  any  body  on  record,  left  col 
lege  with  his  head  as  full  of  romance  and  as  far 
from  any  thing  like  plain,  practical,  common-sense 
views  of  life  and  its  wearisome  cares  and  its  imperi 
ous  duties, as  any  young Newyorker  of  his  standing; 
and  he  very  soon  discovered  that  his  charming 
cousin  Cora  Mansfield  was  just  the  bewitching  little 
beauty  for  such  a  hero  to  fall  shockingly  in  love 
with.  To  be  freed  from  college  restraints  and  to  be 
deeply  in  love,  were  both  so  delightful,  that  Everard 
*  argued  sair'  to  persuade  his  father  not  to  be  in 
such  haste  to  immure  him  in  a  law-office.  He 
thought  his  health  rather  delicate — exertion  certain 
ly  did  not  agree  with  him.  He  passed  his  slender 
fingers  through  the  cherished  love-locks  which  had 
been  much  his  care  of  late  ;  looked  in  the  glass  and 
wished  he  was  of  age  and  had  finished  his  studies  ; 
and  then  went  and  sat  the  evening  with  Cora.  And 
though  law  did  not  get  on  very  fast,  love  made  up 
for  it  by  growing  wondrously. 

His  diary  in  those  days,  if  he  had  found  time 
to  keep  a  diary,  must  have  run  somewhat  on  this 
wise  : — 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  241 

1  Monday  morning.  Rose  at  eight.  Got  to  the 
office  about  ten,  or  pretty  soon  after.  Mr.  J.  looked 
a  little  dry.  Went  with  Cora  at  twelve  to  see 
— 's  pictures.  Took  us  a  long  time.  Dined 
at  uncle  Phil's — and  found  all  in  bed  but  Pa  when 
I  came  home. 

Tuesday.  Overslept.  Office  at  ten,  or  perhaps  a 
little  after.  Mr  J.  asked  me  if  I  was  not  well.  Vex 
ed  to  think  how  I  colored  as  I  said  'not  very.'  Cora 
and  I  were  engaged  to  make  a  bridal  call  \\ith  Mis 
L.  Carriage  called  for  me  at  the  office.  Dined  at 
uncle  Phil's  and  went  to  the  theatre  with  aunt 
Charlotte  and  the  girls.  Cora  grows  prettier.  Hen 
ry  Tracy  says  she  is  handsomer  than  the  great 
beauty  Miss of  Boston. 

Wednesday.  All  dined  with  us,  and  company  in 
the  evening.  Did  not  get  to  the  office  at  all. 

Thursday.  Rose  early.  Walked  with  the  girls 
on  the  battery,  and  breakfasted  at  uncle  Phil's.  Felt 
quite  ill.  Rising  early  never  did  agree  with  me. 
Obliged  to  lie  on  the  sofa,  and  have  my  forehead 
bathed  with  Cologne  till  it  was  too  late  to  go  to  the 
office.  Dined  at  uncle  Phil's,  and  rode  with  girls 
afterwards,  &c.  &c. 

And  what  were  uncle  Phil  and  aunt  Charlotte 
thinking  of  all  this  time?  Why,  that  Everard  and 
Cora  were  but  children ;  and  that  by-and-by,  when 
the  fitting  time  should  come,  a  marriage  would  be 
just  the  very  thing  most  agreeable  to  all  concerned. 

When  spring  came — delicious  tempting  days  of 
warm  sun  and  bright  skies — both  families  prepared 
for  their  usual  summer  flight  to  their  rural  palaces 
on  the  North  River,  not  far  from  town;  and  Everard 
pleaded  so  hard  for  one  single  summer,  or  part  of  a 
summer,  that  his  father,  who  was  too  indulgent  by 


242  A     NEW      HOME, 

half,  gave  way  and  suffered  him  to  postpone  hig 
studies  ;  hoping  of  course  that  Everard  would  gain 
studious  habits  by  sauntering  in  the  woods  with  his 
cousins.  'Tis  pity  parents  can  so  seldom  stop  at  the 
juste  milieu  between  weak  compliance  and  severe 
requisition  ;  but  then  1  should  have  had  no  story  to 
tell,  so  it  is  better  as  it  is. 

'How  fond  the  children  are  of  each  other  ! '  said 
Mrs  Hastings  to  Mrs  Mansfield. 

What  parent  ever  thought  that  a  child  had  arriv 
ed  at  maturity  ? 

,  I  have  heard  of  an  octogenarian  who  declined 
staying  two  days  with  a  relative  because  he  was 
afraid  '  the  boys  '  could  not  get  along  without  him  ; 
one  of  the  *  boys '  a  bachelor  of  fifty,  the  other  a 
grandfather.  But  to  return. 

Wandering  one  afternoon  over  the  woody  hills 
which  make  so  charming  a  part  of  those  elegant 
places  on  the  Hudson,  Cora  and  Everard,  by  one  of 
those  chances  which  will  occur,  spite  of  all  one  can 
do,  were  separated  from  their  companions. 

'  Everard,'  said  the  fair  girl,  stopping  short  and 
looking  around  her  with  delight,  '  only  see  !  it  seems 
now  as  if  we  were  in  a  lonely  wilderness  without  a 
single  trace  of  man  but  this  little  path.  Wouldn't 
it  be  charming  if  it  were  really  so?  if  there  were  no 
body  within,  O  !  ever  so  many  miles,  but  just  our 
selves '  she  stopped  and  blushed. 

1  Ah,  Cora  !'  said  Everard,  passionately,   £  if  you 

only  loved  me  half  as  well  as '  but  he  had  not 

time  to  finish,  for  the  little  hand  which  had  lain 
quietly  within  his  arm  was  snatched  away,  leaving 
the  glove  behind  it,  and  Cora,  running  away  from 
her  own  blushes,  was  at  the  river  side  quick  aa 
lightning. 


FOLLOW?  243 

Love  had  not  blinded  Everard's  eyes  when  he 
called  Cora  a  beauty.  She  was  a  beauty,  and  of 
the  most  bewitching  style  too  ;  with  eyes  of  all 
sorts  of  colors,  just  as  she  happened  to  feel ;  hut  the 
fringing  lashes  were  always  silky-black,  and  the  eyes 
seemed  so  too,  to  the  unconcerned  spectator.  She 
might  have  passed  for  one  of  '  Spain's  dark-glanc 
ing  daughters,'  if  one  looked  at  her  elastic  form, 
and  her  tiny  hands  and  feet,  but  her  skin  was  too 
exquisitely  white  to  warrant  the  supposition,  and 
besides,  she  had  mind  enough  in  her  face  to  have 
furnished  forth  a  dozen  senoras.  d7 

Imagine  such  a  being,  graceful  as  a  sylph,  and 
withal, 

Ruby-ltpp'd  and  tooth'd  with  pearl 

and  you  have  Cora  Mansfield  before  you,  as  she 
stood  on  the  beach,  every  charrn  heightened  by  the 
sudden  exertion,  and  the  confusion  into  which 
Everard's  last  speech  (of  which  I  gave  only  an  ink 
ling)  had  thrown  her. 

There  had  long  been  a  tacit  understanding  be 
tween  the  young  lovers  ;  but,  after  all,  the  first 
words  of  love  will,  whatever  may  have  been  the 
preparation,  inevitably  overset  a  woman's  phi 
losophy. 

Cora  was  almost  sixteen,  reader,  and  thought 
herselfa  woman  at  least,  though  her  mother — but 
that's  quite  another  thing. 

It  was  sunpet  before  Everard  and  Cora  found 
their  way  back  to  the  house  ;  but  they  did  not  stop 
on  the  lawn  as  usual,  to  talk  about  the  western 
sky.  Cora's  little  heart  throbbed  audibly,  as  a 
heroine's  ought  ;  and  as  for  Everard,  he  walked 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  earth,  though  he  thought 


244  A     NEW     HOME, 

only  of  the  bright  being  beside  him.  Both  looked  most 
terribly  conscious,  but  nobody  thought  of  noticing 
them,  and  Mrs  Mansfield,  whom  they  found  in  the 
parlor,  only  said,  "  Cora,  child,  you  are  very  im 
prudent  to  be  running  about  after  sunset  without 
your  bonnet.' 

Now  Cora  did  hate,  above  all  other  things,  to  be 
called  '  child,'  and  it  was  quite  a  comfort  to  her  that 
evening  to  reflect,  '  Mamma  would  not  be  always 
calling  me  child,  if  she  knew !' 

It  was  not  long  before  Mamma  knew  all  about 
it,  far  there  was  no  motive  for  concealment  except 
the  extreme  youth  of  the  parties.  Everard  said 
three  years  would  soon. pass  away,  which  is  very 
true,  though  he  did  not  think  so, 

I  forgot,  when  I  was  describing  Cora,  to  say  she 
was  even  more  deeply  tinged  with  romance  than 
Everard  himself.  .  She  lived  entirely  in  an  ideal 
world.  Her  mind  was  her  kingdom  or  her  cottage 
—her  ball-room  or  her  dungeon — as  the  imaginary 
drama  shifted  the  unities.  Everard's  reveries  had  in 
them  nothing  defined.  There  was  always  a  beautiful 
creature,  just  like  Cora,  but  the  inferior  parts  of  fan 
cy's  sketch  were  usually  rather  dim.  With  his 
fairy  mistress  the  case  was  different.  The  first  po 
em  her  Italian  master,  the  Marquis  -  — ,  had  put 
into  her  hands,  had  been  the  Pastor  Fido  ;  and  the 
(  Care  beate  selve'  of  Amaryllis  had  been  ever  since 
the  favorite  theme  of  her  musings.  And  then  the 
sweet  little  enchanting  '  Isola  Disabitata'  of  Metas- 
tasio  proved, — just  as  young  ladies  like  to  have 
things  proved, — that  people,  nay,  women  alone,  can 
live  in  a  wilderness,  and  even  in  a  desert  island  ; 
and  O  what  a  pretty  variety  of  paradises  she  wove 
out  of  these  slight  materials  !  She  was  always  her- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  245 

self  the  happy  tenant  of  a  cottage  ;  so  happy  in 
herself  that  even  Everard  did  not  always  find  a 
a  place  in  the  dream.  She  had  her  books,  her 
needle-work,  and  her  music  ;  a  harp  of  course,  or  a 
guitar  at  the  very  least  ;  ever-smiling  skies  and 
ever-rippling  rivulets  ;  the  distant  murmur  of  a 
water- fall,  or  perhaps  a  boat  upon  a  deep-shaded 
lake  ;  and  a  fair  hill-side  with  some  picturesque 
sheep  grazing  upon  it. 

1  No  sound  ef  hammer  or  of  saw  was   there,' 

no  thought  of  dinner,  no  concern  about   '  the  wash/ A  *^~ 
no  setting  of  barrels  to  catch  rain-water — oh,  dear  !  ^ 
only  think  of  coming  to  Michigan  to  realize  such^ 
a  dream  as  that  ! 

'•  r- 


,  „ 


22 


246  A    NEW    HOME 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


Go  follow  the  breeze  that  flies  over  the  sea, 

Go  fasten  the  rainbow's  dyes  ; 
Go  whistle  the  bird  from  yonder  trep, 

Or  catch  on  the  wave  the  sparkles  that  rise ; 
This  to  do  thou  shall  easier  find, 
Than  to  know  the  thoughts  of  a  woman's  mind. 


WITH  a  head  full  of  such  fantastic  notions,  it  is 
hardly  surprising  that  the  distant  prospect  of  an  old- 
fashioned  wedding— all  the  aunts  and  uncles  and 
fifteenth  cousins  duly  invited — a  great  evening  par 
ty,  and  then  a  stiff  setting-up  for  company — had  not 
many  charms  for  our  heroine,  and  that  Everard,  al 
most  equally  romantic,  and  eperdument  amour  eux, 
should  have  learned  to  think  with  his  pretty  wilful 
cousin  in  this  as  in  all  other  particulars. 

He  did  not  at  all  relish  Cora's  living  so  much  in 
these  home-made  worlds  of  hers.  He  sometimes 
questioned  her  pretty  closely  as  to  particulars,  and  I 
regret  to  say,  was  often  more  jealous  than  he  cared 
to  own,  of  certain  cavaliers  who  played  conspicuous 
parts  in  Cora's  dramas.  She  declared  they  all 
meant  Everard,  but  he  thought  some  of  them  but 
poor  likenesses. 

He  found  her  one  day  crying  her  pretty  eyes  red, 
over  one  of  Barry  Cornwall's  Dramatic  Scenes,  sweet 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  247 

and  touching  enough  for  anybody  to  cry  over.  It 
ran  thus : — 

'There  stiff  and  cold  the  dark-eyed  Guido  lay, 
His  pale  face  upward  to  the  careless  day, 
That  smiled  as  it  was  wont. 

And  he  was  found 

His  young  limbs  mangled  on  the  rocky  ground, 
And  'mid  the  weltering  weeds  and  shallows  cold 
His  dark  hair  floated,  as  the  phantom  told: 
And  like  the  very  dream,  his  glassy  eye 
Spoke  of  gone  mortality  ! — ' 

And  he  took  it  quite  hard  of  her  to  weep  over  a 
handsome  boy,  who  was  not  a  bit  like  him.  Cora 
declared  he  was,  and  they  made  quite  a  pretty  quar 
rel  of  it. 

It  must  come  out  at  last — I  have  put  it  off  as  long 
as  I  decently  could,  and  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to 
tell  it — but  this  silly  young  couple  in  their  dreamy 
folly  concluded  that  since  all  the  papas  and  mam 
mas  were  quite  willing  they  should  marry,  it  could 
be  no  great  harm  if  they  took  the  how  and  the  when 
into  their  own  hands,  and  carved  out  for  themselves 
a  home  in  the  wilderness,  far  from  law-offices  and 
evening  parties,  plum-cake  and  white  satin.  Ac 
cordingly,  on  pretence  of  dining  with  an  aunt  in 
town,  the  imprudent  pair  were  irrevocably  joined  by 
a  certain  reverend  gentleman,  who  used  to  be  very 
accommodating  in  that  way,  and  the  very  next 
evening  set  out  clandestinely  for  —  — ,  some  hun 
dreds  of  miles  west  of  Albany. 

Cora  left,  all  in  due  form,  a  note  of  apology  on 
her  dressing-table ;  placed  whatever  money  and 
valuables  she  possessed  in  security  about  her  per 
son, — I  believe  she  did  not  take  any  particular  hero 
ine  for  a  model  in  these  arrangements,  but  all ; — 
and  then  prepared  to  leave  her  father's  house. 


248  A     NEW     HOME, 

Unfortunately  nobody  was  watching.  There  was 
no  possible  excuse  for  jumping  out  of  the  window, 
but  she  waited  till  all  were  in  bed,  and  then  unlock 
ed  a  door  with  much  care,  and  let  herself  out.  She 
felt  a  sort  of  pang  as  she  looked  back  at  the  house, 
but  the  flurry  of  her  spirits  scarcely  allowed  her  to 
be  as  sentimental  as  the  occasion  demanded. 

Everard,  whose  purse  had  just  been  replenished 
by  his  father's  bountiful  half-yearly  allowance,  join 
ed  her  before  she  had  reached  the  high-road.  He 
was  a  shade  less  thoughtless  than  his  volatile  com 
panion,  who  had  been  ever  a  spoiled  child,  and  his 
heart  felt  portentously  heavy  ere  they  had  lost  sight 
of  their  happy  homes. 

It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight  night,  somewhere 
near  the  middRe  of  July,  and  a  slight  shower  in  the 
afternoon  had  rendered  the  walking  delightful.  Co 
ra  was  enchanted  :  the  hour,  the  scene,  the  excite 
ment  of  her  romance-ridden  brain,  conspired  to  raise 
her  spirits  to  an  extravagant  pitch,  and  to  make  her 
forget  all  that  ou-ght  to  have  deterred  her  from  the 
mad  step  she  was  now  taking  She  only  regretted 
that  the  whole  journey  could  not  be  performed  on 
foot ;  and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that  Everard 
convinced  her  of  the  impracticability  of  this,  her  first 
and  darling  scheme.  It  was  to  have  been  what  my 
friend  Mrs  -  -  calls  a  c  predestinarian  tower.' 

To  be  indebted  to  wheels  and  boilers  for  transpor 
tation,  detracted  terribly  from  the  romance  of  the 
thing  ;  but  she  was  comforted  by  the  thought  that 
it  was  only  by  travelling  as  rapidly  as  possible,  that 
they  could  hope  to  elude  the  search  which  she  doubt 
ed  not  would  be  immediately  commenced,  by  the 
astonished  friends  they  had  left  behind. 

Cora  confessed  herself  a  little  wTeary  when  they 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  249 

reached  the  little  Dutch  tavern  where  they  were  to 
find  the  carriage  which  was  to  bear  them  to  a  land 
ing  on  the  river.  By  some  mistake  the  carriage 
had  not  yet  arrived,  and  the  hour  which  elapsed  be 
fore  it  came  was  one  of  feverish  anxiety  to  both. 
A  dreary,  unfurnished  room,  lighted  by  one  forlorn 
little  candle,  was  rather  too  much  for  Cora's  philoso 
phy.  She  began  to  feel  terribly  sleepy,  and,  if  the 
truth  must  be  told,  wished  herself  safely  in  bed  at 
home. 

But  she  would  not  have  lisped  such  a  thing  for 
the  world  ;  and  to  Everard's  repeated  inquiry,  *  My 
dearest  Cora,  what  has  become  of  all  your  charming 
spirits  ?  Do  you  repent  already  ? ' — almost  hoping 
she  would  say,  yes, — she  still  replied, 

'  No,  indeed  !  Do  you  think  I  have  so  little  reso 
lution  ! ' 

And  she  silenced  the  loud  whispers  of  her  better 
feelings,  aided  as  they  were  by  this  temporary  de 
pression  of  spirits,  by  the  consideration  that  it  was 
now  too  late  to  recede;  since,  although  she  had 
found  it  easy  to  quit  her  father's  house  unnoticed, 
to  re-enter  it  in  the  same  manner  would  now  be 
impossible,  and  to  return  in  the  morning  was  not  to 
be  thought  of. 

The  rapid  motion  of  the  carriage,  and  the  refresh 
ing  air  of  approaching  morning,  revived  her  flagging 
energies  ;  and  they  had  not  proceeded  many  miles 
before  her  fancy  had  drawn  for  her  one  of  its 
brightest  pictures,  and  this  soon  after  subsided  into 
a  most  fantastically  charming  dream.  In  short,  she 
fell  asleep,  and  slept  till  day-break.  At  sunrise  they 
found  themselves  at  the  landing,  and,  in  the  course 
of  half  an  hour,  on  board  the  steamer. 
22* 

<^ir 


250  A      NEW     HOME, 

The  morning  was  express.  No  lovelier  sunshine 
ever  encouraged 'a  naughty  girl  in  her  naughtiness. 
A  cold  rain  would  have  sent  her  back  probably, 
wilted  and  humble  enough,  but  this  enchanting 
morning  was  but  too  propitious.  Cora  felt  her  little 
heart  dilate  with  pleasure  as  the  boat  shot  through 
the  foaming  waters,  and  the  bugles  awakened  the 
mountain  echoes.  She  kept  her  green  silk  veil 
closely  drawn,  until  she  had  ascertained  that  all  on 
board  were  strangers  to  her  ;  and  Everard,  who 
could  not  adopt  the  same  means  of  masking  his 
Apollo  front,  was  much  relieved  at  making  the 
same  discovery. 

A  few  hours  brought  them  to  Albany,  and  here 
Everard  would  gladly  have  remained  a  few  days  ; 
but  there  was  now  an  anxious  restlessness  in  Cora's 
heart,  which  sought  relief  in  rapid  motion  ;  and  she 
entreated  him  to  proceed  immediately.  So  he  dis 
posed  of  his  watch — for  who  needs  a  time-piece  in 
the  woods,  where  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  watch 
the  shadows  all  day  ? — and,  with  much  reluctance, 
of  a  ring  of  Cora's  ;  a  rich  diamond,  a  splendid  birth 
day  gift  from  the  grandmother  who  had  done  Cora 
the  favor  to  spoil  her  by  every  possible  indulgence. 
The  jeweller,  who,  fortunately  for  the  headlong  pair, 
proved  very  honest  as  times  go,  agreed  to  receive 
these  articles  only  in  pledge,  on  being  allowed  what 
he  called  moderate  interest  for  one  year,  the  time  he 
engaged  to  retain  them. 

To  our  wise  lovers  the  sum  now  in  their  posses 
sion  seemed  inexhaustible.  All  difficulties  seemed 
at  an  end,  and  they  set  out  with  all  sails  filled  by 
this  happy  raising  of  the  wind.  'Tis,  after  all,  a 
humiliating  truth,  that 

Lips,  though  blooming,  must  still  be  fed. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  251 

To  wander  over  the  woody  hills  all  the  morning 
with — the  poet  or  the  novelist  whom  the  reader  loves  • 
best  ;  to  watch  the  sailing  clouds  till  the  sultry  noon 
is  past,  then  linger  by  the  shadowy  lake  till  its  bos 
om  begins  to  purple  with  day's  dying  tints,  while  it 
fills  the  soul  with  dreamy  happiness,  only  makes  the 
unsympathizing  body  prodigiously  hungry  ;  and 
then  to  go  home,  wondering  what  on  earth  we  can 
have  for  dinner,  strikes  me  as  a  specimen  of  pun 
gent  bathos.  But  to  return. 

Cora's  desire  to  perform  certain  parts  of  the  west 
ward  journey  on  foot,  Everard  himself  bearing  the 
two  small  valises  which  now  enveloped  all  their 
earthly  havings  ; — '  some  kinds  of  baseness  are  no 
bly  undergone  ;  ' — this  wish  had  yielded  to  that 
feverish  haste,  that  secret  desire  to  fly  from  her  own 
pursuing  thoughts,  to  which  I  have  before  alluded. 
So  they  travelled  like  common  people. 

At  Utica,  Everard  purchased  a  few  books  ;  for 
Cora  had  not  been  able  to  crowd  into  her  travelling 
basket  more  than  two  mignon  volumes  of  her  dar 
ling  Metastasio  ;  and  to  live  in  a  wilderness  without 
books,  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  Robinson  Crusoe 
would  have  been  the  most  rational  purchase,  but  I 
dare  say  he  did  not  buy  that.  Perhaps  Atala,  per 
haps  Gertrude  of  Wyoming,  perhaps but  these 

are  only  conjectures.  For  my  own  part,  I  should 
have  recommended  Buchan's  Domestic  Medicine, 
the  Frugal  Housewife,  the  Whole  Duty  of  Man,  and 
the  Almanac  for  18 — .  But,  counselled  only  by 
their  own  fantasies,  these  sober  friends  were,  1  doult, 
omitted,  in  favor  of  some  novels  and  poetry-books, 
idle  gear  at  best. 

With  this  reinforcement  of  'the  stufTthat  dreams 
are  made  of,'  they  proceeded  ;  arid,  after  some  two 


252  A     NEW     HOME, 

or  three  days'  travel,  found  themselves  in  a  small 
village,  in  the  south-western  part  of  New- York. 
Here  Cora  was  content  to  rest  awhile  ;  and  Everard 
employed  the  time  in  sundry  excursions  for  the  pur 
pose  of  reconnoitring  the  face  of  the  country  ;  wish 
ing  to  ascertain  whether  it  was  rocky,  and  glenny, 
and  streamy  enough  to  suit  Cora,  whose  soul  dis 
dained  any  thing  like  a  level  or  a  clearing. 

Ere  long  he  found  a  spot,  so  wild  and  mountain 
ous  and  woody,  as  to  be  considered  entirely  impracti 
cable  by  any  common-sense  settler ;  so  that  it  seem 
ed  just  the  very  place  for  a  forest-home  for  a  pair 
who  had  set  out  to  live  on  other  people's  thoughts. 
Cora  was  so  charmed  with  Everard's  description  of 
it,  and — whispered  be  it — so  tired  of  living  at  the 

—  Hotel,  that  she  would  not  hear  of  going  first 
to  look  and  judge  for  herself,  but  insisted  on  remov 
ing  at  once,  and  rinding  a  place  to  live  in  after 
wards. 


FOLLOW?  253 


CHAPTER  XL. 


Love  conceives 

No  paradise  but  such  as  Eden  was., 
With  two  hearts  beating  in  it. 

WILLIS. — BIANCA.  VISCONTI. 


ON  the  confines  of  this  highland  solitude  stood  a 
comfortable-looking  farm-house,  with  only  the  usual 
compliment  of  sheds  and  barns  ;  but,  on  approach 
ing  near  enough  to  peep  within  its  belt  of  maples 
and  elms,  a  splendid  sign  was  revealed  to  the  de 
lighted  eye  of  the  weary  traveller,  promising  '  good 
entertainment  for  man  and  beast.'  Thus  invited, 
Everard  and  Cora  sought  admission,  and  were  re 
ceived  with  a  very  civil  nod  from  the  portly  host, 
who  sat  smoking  his  pipe  by  the  window,  'thinking 
of  nothing  at  all ; '  at  least  so  said  his  face,  while 
his  great  dog  lay  just  outside,  ready  to  bark  at 
customers. 

The  cognomen  of  this  worthy  transplanted  Yan 
kee, — the  landlord,  not  the  dog, — was,  as  the  sign 
assured  the  world,  Bildad  Gridley  ;  and  the  very  tall, 
one-eyed  'ottomy'  who  sat  knitting  by 'the  other 
window,  was  addressed  by  him  as  '  Miss  Dart.'  Mr 
Gridley,  a  widower  in  the  decline  of  life,  and  '  Miss 
Dart,'  a  poor  widow,  who,  in  return  for  a  comforta 
ble  home,  assisted  his  daughter  Arethusa  to  do  '  the 
chores.'  There  was  yet  another  member  of  the 
family,  Mr  Gridley's  son  Ahasuerus,  but  he  had  not 


254  A     NEW     HOME, 

yet  appeared.  Miss  Arethusa  was  a  strapping  dam 
sel,  in  a  '  two-blues '  calico,  and  a  buff  gingham 
cape,  with  a  towering  horn  comb  stuck  on  the  very 
pinnacle  of  her  head,  and  a  string  of  gold  beads  en 
circling  her  ample  neck. 

The  arrival  of  our  city  travellers  at  this  secluded 
public,  produced  at  first  quite  a  sensation.  Few 
passengers,  save  the  weary  pedlar,  or  the  spruce  re 
tailer  of  books,  clocks,  or  nutmegs,  found  their  way 
to  these  penetralia  of  Nature.  Now  and  then,  in 
deed,  some  wandering  sportsman,  or  some  college 
student  picturesquing  during  his  fall  vacation,  or 
perhaps  a  party  of  surveyors,  rested  for  a  night  at 
the  Moon  and  Seven  Stars  ;  but  usually,  although 
those  much  bedaubed  luminaries  had  given  place  to 
*  an  exact  likeness,'  as  said  Mr  Gridley,  c  of  Giner'l 
Lay-Fyette,'  with  his  name,  as  was  most  meet,  in 
yellow  letters  below  the  portrait,  the  house  was  as 
silent  as  if  it  had  not  borne  the  ambitious  title  of  an 
Inn,  and  the  farming  business  went  on  with  scarce 
ly  an  occasional  interruption. 

But  now  the  aspect  of  things  was  materially 
changed.  Everard  had  signified  his  desire  to  re 
main  in  so  beautiful  a  spot  for  a  week  or  two  at 
least,  provided  Mr  Gridley  could  board — himself 
'  and — and — this  lady,'  he  added,  for  he  could  not 
call  Cora  his  wife,  though  he  tried. 

The  landlord,  with  a  scrutinizing  glance  at  poor 
Cora,  said  he  rather  guessed  he  could  accommodate 
them  for  a  spell ;  and  then  went  to  consult  the  other 
powers.  Our  <  happy  pair,'  each  tormented  by  an 
undefined  sense  of  anxiety  and  conscious  wrong, 
which  neither  was  willing  to  acknowledge  to  the 
other,  awaited  the  return  of  honest  Bildad  with  a 
tremblement  du  emir,  which  they  in  vain  endeavor- 


WHO'LL   FOLLOW?  255 

ed  to  overcome.  At  length  his  jolly  visage  re-ap 
peared,  and  they  were  much  relieved  to  hear  him 
say  in  a  more  decided  tone  than  before,  '  Well,  sir  ! 
I  guess  we  can  'commodate  ye.' 

And  here,  how  I  might  moralize  upon  the  hum 
bling  effects  of  being  naughty,  which  could  make 
these  proud  young  citizens,  who  had  felt  so  won- 
drously  well-satisfied  with  their  own  dignity  and 
consequence  only  a  week  before,  now  await,  with 
fearful  apprehension,  the  fiat  of  a  plain  old  farmer, 
who  after  all  was  only  to  board  and  lodge  them. 
The  old  gentleman  had  such  a  fatherly  look,  that 
both  Everard  and  Cora  thought  of  their  own  papas ; 
and  now  began  to  reflect  that  maybe  these  papas 
might  not  after  all  see  the  joke  in  its  true  light. 
But  neither  of  them  said  such  a  word,  and  so  I  shall 
pass  the  occasion  in  silence. 

They  were  shown  to  a  small  white-washed  room 
on  the  second  floor,  possessing  one  window,  guiltless 
of  the  paint  brush,  now  supported  by  means  of  that 
curious  notched  fixture  called  a  button,  so  different 
from  the  article  to  which  the  title  of  right  belongs. 
A  bed  adorned  with  a  covering  on  which  the  taste 
of  the  weaver  had  expatiated,  in  the  production  of 
innumerable  squares  and  oblongs  of  blue  and  white; 
a  very  diminutive  and  exceedingly  rickety  table 
stained  red  ;  a  looking-glass  of  some  eight  inches 
breadth,  framed  in  a  strip  of  gorgeous  mahogany, 
and  showing  to  the  charmed  gazer  a  visage  curious 
ly  elongated  cross-wise,  with  two  nondescript  chairs, 
and  an  old  hair  trunk,  bearing  the  initials  '  B.  G.' 
described  in  brass  nails  on  its  arched  top,  constituted 
the  furniture  of  the  apartment. 

Cora  busied  herself  in  arranging  things  as  well  as 
she  could.  Mr  Gridley  called  her  ;  quite  a  handy 


256  A     NEW     HOME, 

young  woman,  considering  she  hadn't  been  brought 
up  to  nothing  ! '  and  while  this  employment  lasted, 
she  managed  to  maintain  a  tolerable  degree  of 
^cheerfulness  ;  but  when  all  was  done,  and  she  paus 
ed  to  look  around  her,  such  a  tide  of  feelings  rushed 
upon  her,  that  her  pride  at  length  gave  way,  and 
^  sitting  down  on  the  old  trunk,  she  buried  her  face 
Win  her  lap,  and  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears. 

Everard  tried  to  comfort  her  as  well  as  he  could, 
but  his  own  heart  was  overcharged  ;  and  after  a  few 
ineffectual  efforts,  he  threw  himself  on  the  floor  at 
her  side,  and  wept  almost  as  heartily  as  she  did. 
As  soon  as  his  feelings  were  relieved  by  this  over 
flowing  of  nature,  he  felt  heartily  ashamed  of  him 
self,  and  lifting  Cora  to  the  window,  insisted  that 
she  should  look  out  upon  the  glorious  prospect 
which  it  commanded.  She  struggled  to  regain  her 
low  seat,  that  she  might  indulge  to  the  uttermost 
this  paroxysm  of  remorse  and  misgiving;'  but  he 
pursued  his  advantage,  and  held  her  before  the 
window  till  the  fresh  breeze  had  changed  the  cur 
rent  of  her  sad  thoughts,  and  thrown  her  rich  curls 
into  a  most  becoming  confusion  ;  and  then,  reaching 
the  eight-inch  mirror,  held  it  suddenly  before  her 
still  streaming  eyes.  And  now,  like  true  boy  and 
girl,  they  were  both  seized  with  incontrollable 
laughter,  and  sat  down  and  enjoyed  it  to  the  utter 
most. 

'How  foolish  we  look,'  said  Cora  at  length.  '  O, 
Everard  !  if  mamma — '  but  at  that  word  her  pretty 
eyes  began  to  fill  again,  and  Everard  declared  she 
should  not  say  another  word. 

'  Let  us  take  a  walk,'  said  he,  'one  of  your  own 
long  rambling  walks.  You  know  we  have  yet  to 


' 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  25T 

find  a  spot  lovely  enough  for  you  to  live  in  ?  '     And 
the  volatile  girl  was  all  gaiety  in  a  moment. 

They  were  on  their  return  after  a  very  long  ram 
ble,  when  they  came  to  a  dell  deep  enough  to  make 
one  think  of  listening  to  the  talkers  in  Captain 
Symmes'  world  ;  and  this  Cora  declared  to  be  the 
very  home  of  her  dreams.  This  and  none  other 
should  be  her  l  forest  sanctuary  ; ' — Q,u.  What  was 
she  flying  from? — here  should  the  cottage  stand, 
under  whose  lowly  roof  was  to  be  realized  all  of 
bliss  that  poet  ever  painted. 

'  Mighty  shades, 

Weaving  their  gar^eoua  tracery  over  head, 
With  the  light  melting  through  their  high  arcades, 
As  through  a  pillar'd  cloister's.' 

O !  it  was  too  delicious !  and  all  the  good  thoughts 
took  flight  again. 


23 


258 


A     NEW     HOME7 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


Oon.    Here  is  every  thing  advantageous  to  life. 
Ant.     True,  save  means  to  live. 

TEMPEST. 

THAT  evening  after  tea,  Everard  began  his  ne 
gotiations  with  Mr  Gridley  for  the  purchase  of  the 
much-admired  glen. 

'  Glen  ! '  said  honest  Bildad,  who  sat  as  usual, 
pipe  in  mouth,  by  the  front  window. 

Everard  explained. 

'  Why,  Lord  bless  ye !  yes,  I  own  two  hundred 
and  seventy-odd  acres  jist  round  there  ;  and  that 
'ere  gulf  is  part  on't.  Ahasuerus  began  to  make  a 
clearin  there,  but  it's  so  plaguily  lumber'd  up  with 
stuns,  and  so  kind  o'  slantin  besides,  that  we  thought 
it  would  never  pay  for  ploughin.  So  Hazzy  has 
gone  to  work  up  north  here,  and  gets  along  like 
smoke.' 

'Would  you  be  willing  to  sell  a  small  place 
there  ? '  inquired  Everard,  who  felt  inexpressibly 
sheepish  when  he  set  about  buying  this  '  stunny ' 
spot. 

Mr  Gridley  stared  at  him  in  unfeigned  astonish 
ment. 

After  a  moment's  pause,  he  answered,  after  the 
manner  of  his  nation,  by  asking, 


FOLLOW?  259 

'Why,  do  you  know  any  body  that  wants  to 
buy?' 

'  I  have  some  thoughts  of  settling  here  myself, ' 
said  his  guest. 

Another  stare,  and  the  landlord  fell  to  smoking 
with  all  his  might,  looking  withal  full  of  medita 
tion. 

At  length — i  You  settle  here  !  "*  he  said  ;  *  what 
for,  in  all  natur  ? ' 

'I've  taken  a  fancy  to  the  place,'  said  Everard; 
1  and  if  you  choose  to  sell,  I  may  perhaps  be  a  pur 
chaser.' 

'  Well ! '  said  the  landlord,  laying  his  pipe  on  the 
window-sill,  l  if  this  aint  the  queerest — But  I'll  tell 

ye  what,  Mr ,  I  never  can  think  o'  your  name,  if 

you  really  want  the  place,  why,  I'll — '  but  here  he 
stopt  again.  He  fixed  his  eyes  on  Everard,  as  if  he 
would  look  through  his  mortal  coil. 

'  There's  one  thing,'  proceeded  he  again,  '  may  I 
jist  be  so  sa'acy  as  to  ask  you — I  don't  know  as 
you'd  think  it  a  very  civil  question ;  but  I  don't 
know  as  we  can  get  on  without  it.  Are  you  sure,' 
speaking  very  deliberately — 'are  you  sure  that  you're 
married  to  this  young  gal  ?  ' 

'  Married ! '  said  Everard,  his  fine  eyes  flashing 
lightning,  while  poor  Cora,  completely  humbled,  felt 
ready  to  sink  through  the  floor,  c  Married  ! '  he  re 
peated,  in  high  indignation,  which  an  instant's 
pause  served  to  calm.  '  I  can  assure  you — I  can 
assure  you — ' 

And  he  was  flying  after  Cora,  who  had  slipped 

out  of  the  room,  but  the  good  man  called  him  back. 

1  No  'casion,  no  'casion  !  you  say  you  sartinly  are, 

and  that's  enough ;    but  ra'ly  you  and  your  wife 


260  A     NEW     HOME, 

both  looked  so  young,  that  we've  been  plaguily 
puzzled  what  to  make  on't.' 

Everard,  deeply  mortified,  reverted  as  speedily  as 
possible  to  his  desired  purchase  ;  and  after  a  few 
observations  as  to  the  unprofitableness  of  the  scheme, 
Mr  Gridley  concluded,  with  an  air  of  kindness,  which 
soothed  the  feelings  of  his  young  auditor,  '  You  know 
your  own  business  best,  1  dare  say  ;  and  if  so  be  you 
are  determined  upon  it,  you  may  have  it,  and  make 
use  of  it  as  long  as  you  like ;  and  I  'spose  you  won't 
think  o'  puttin  up  much  of  a  house  upon  sich  a  place 
as  that?  when  you  are  tired  on't  we'll  settle  the  mat 
ter  one  way  or  t'other.' 

Everard  readily  agreed  to  this  proposition,  for  he 
knew  himself  the  avowed  heir  of  the  rich  bachelor 
uncle  whose  name  he  bore,  and  he  was  little  con 
cerned  about  the  pecuniary  part  of  his  affairs. 

And  there  was  a  house  to  be  built  on  a  green 
hill-side  in  the  deep  woods ;  and  this  grande  opus 
fully  absorbed  our  friends  until  it  was  completed. 
In  taking  possession  of  it  and  in  arranging  the 
simple  requisites  which  formed  its  furniture,  Cora 
found  herself  happier  than  she  had  been  since  she 
left  home.  It  must  be  confessed  that  every  day 
brought  its  inconveniences  ;  one  can't  at  first  snuff 
the  candle  well  with  the  tongs.  Here  were  neither 
papa's  side-boards  nor  mamma's  dressing  tables  ; 
but  there  was  the  charm  of  house-keeping,  and 
every  young  wife  knows  what  a  charm  that  is,  for 
a  year  or  two  at  least ;  and  then  pride  whispered, 
that  whenever  papa  did  find  them  out,  he  would 
acknowledge  how  very  well  they  had  managed  to 
be  happy  in  their  own  way. 

After  all,  it  must  be  confessed,  that  the  fairy-footed 
Cora  nourished  in  some  unexplored  nook  of  her 


FOLLOW?  261 

warm  little  heart,  a  fund  of  something  which  she 
dignified  by  the  names  of  resolution,  firmness,  per 
severance,  (fee.,  but  which  ill-natured  and  se\7ere 
people  might  perhaps  have  been  disposed  to  call 
obstinacy,  or  self-will.  But  she  was  a  spoiled  child, 
and  her  boy-husband  the  most  indulgent  of  human 
beings,  so  we  must  excuse  her  if  she  was  a  little 
naughty  as  well  as  very  romantic.  The  world's 
harshness  soon  cures  romance,  as  wTell  as  some  other 
things  that  we  set  out  with  ;  but  Cora  had  as  yet 
made  no  acquaintance  with  the  world,  that  most 
severe  of  all  teachers. 

But  no  word  yet  of  inquiries  from  home.  No  adL 
vertisements,  no  rewards,  '  no  afflicted  parents.' 
This  was  rather  mortifying.  At  length  Everard 
ventured  to  propose  writing  to  his  uncle,  and  though 
Cora  pretended  to  be  quite  indifferent,  she  was  right 
glad  to  have  an  excuse  for  opening  a  communica 
tion  with  home.  But  no  answer  came.  The  cold 
winds  of  autumn  turned  the  maple  leaves  yellow, 
then  scarlet,  then  brown— and  no  letter  !  The 
whole  face  of  the  earth  presented  to  the  appalled  eye 
of  the  city-bred  beauty,  but  one  expanse  of  mud  — 
deep,  tenacious,  hopeless  mud.  No  walks  either  by 
day  or  evening  ;  books  all  read  and  re-read  ;  no 
sewing,  for  small  change  of  dress  suffices  in  the 
woods ;  no  company  but  squire  Bildad  or  Mrs  Dart^ 
— the  squire's  '  gal '  was  teaching  school  for  the 
winter,  and  the  interesting  Hazzy  thought  Everard 
1  a  queer  stick  to  set  all  day  in  the  house  a  readin,' 
and  did  not  much  affect  his  society. 

Deep  winter,  and  no  word  from  New- York. 

Everard  now  wrote  to  his  father,  the  most  indul 
gent  of  fathers  ;    but  though  he  often  saw  the  name 
23* 


262  A     NEW     HOME, 

of  the  well-known  firm  in  a  stray  newspaper,  no  no 
tice  whatever  was  taken  of  his  missives.  This  was 
a  turn  of  affairs  for  which  he  was  entirely  unprepar 
ed.  Cora  tossed  her  pretty  head,  and  then  jcried, 
and  said  she  did  not  care,  and  cried  again.  But 
now  a  new  interest  arose.  The  prospect  of  becom 
ing  a  mother  awakened  at  once  the  most  intense 
delight  and  a  terror  amounting  almost  to  agony  ; 
and  Cora  at  length  wrote  to  her  mother. 

Spring  came  and  with  the  flowers  a  little  daugh 
ter  ;  and  Cora  found  in  the  one-eyed,  odd-looking 
widow  the  kindest  and  most  motherly  of  nurses, 
while  Mr  Gridley  and  his  family  kindly  interested 
in  their  inexperienced  neighbors,  were  not  lacking 
in  aid  of  any  sort.  ISo  Cora  made  out  much  better 
than  she  deserved. 

When  she  was  able  to  venture  out,  the  good 
squire  came  with  his  wagon  to  fetch  her  to  spend 
the  day  by  way  of  change  ;  and  Cora  most  thank 
fully  accepted  this  and  the  other  kindnesses  of  her 
rustic  friends.  A  short  residence  in  the  woods  modi 
fies  most  surprisingly  one's  views  on  certain  points. 

Some  travellers  emigrating  to  far  Michigan  had 
been  resting  at  Mr  Gridley's  when  Cora  spent  her 
day  there,  and  it  was  to  this  unlucky  encounter  that 
we  must  ascribe  the  sickening  of  Cora's  darling,  who 
was  after  some  days  attacked  with  an  alarming 
eruption.  Mrs  Dart  declared  it  the  small-pox,  and 
having  unfortunately  less  judgement  than  kindness, 
she  curtained  its  little  bed  from  every  breath  of  air, 
and  fed  it  with  herb-teas  and  other  rustic  stimulants, 
till  the  poor  little  thing  seemed  like  to  stifle;  and 
just  at  this  juncture  Everard  was  taken  ill  with  the 
same  symptoms. 

Cora  bore  up  wonderfully  for  a  few  days,  but  the 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  263 

'. . 

baby  grew  worse,  and  Everard  no  better.  Medical 
aid  was  sought,  but  the  doctor  proved  quite  as  much 
of  an  old  woman  as  Mrs  Dart. 

The  dear  baby's  strength  was  evidently  diminish 
ing,  the  spots  in  its  little  cheeks  assumed  a  livid 
appearance  ;  Mrs  Dart's  pale  face  grew  paler,  and 
Cora  awaited,  with  an  agony  which  might  be  read 
in  her  wild  and  vacant  eye,  the  destruction  of  her 
hopes.  The  recollection  of  her  own  undutiful  con 
duct  towards  her  parents  was  at  her  heart,  weighing 
it  down  like  a  mill-stone.  Everard  who  might  have 
assisted  and  comforted  her  was  stretched  helpless, 
and  at  times  slightly  delirious. 

'I  fear  the  baby  is  going,'  said  the  kind  widow 
with  trembling  lips. 

The  wretched  mother  cast  one  look  at  its  altered 
countenance,  and  with  a  wild  cry  sunk  senseless  on 
the  floor.  Her  punishment  was  fulfilled. 


264  A     NEW     HOME, 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

On  the  breast 

That  rocked  her  childhood,  sinking  in  soft  rest ; — 
Sweet  mother — gentlest  mother  !   can  it  be  ? 

MRS  HEM  A  ire. 

Pros.     If  I  have  too  austerely  punished  you 

Your  compensation  makes  amends  ;  for  I 

Have  give  you  here  a  thread  of  mine  own  life — 

Here  afore  heaven 
I  ratify  this  my  rich  gift. 

TEMPZST, 

Hath  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet, 
Than  that  of  painted  pomp  ? 

As  TOU  LIKB  IT. 

SHE  became  conscious  of  resting  on  a  soft  bosom 
— her  hands  were  gently  chafed,  and  a  whispering 
voice  whose  thrilling  sounds  aroused  her  very  soul, 
recalled  her  to  a  sense  of  her  situation.  She  looked 
first  at  her  infant's  little  bed.  It  was  empty. 

1  My  baby  !  my  baby  !  '  she  shrieked  in  agony. 

Her  mother,  her  own  dear  mother,  laid  it  on  her 
bosom  without  a  word,  but  she  saw  that  it  breathed 
in  a  soft  sleep,  and  tears  relieved  her  bursting  heart. 

*  O,  mother,  mother,  can  you  forgive,'  was  all  that 
she  could  say,  and  it  was  enough.  Her  father  too 
was  there  and  ho  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  weeping 
blest  her  and  forgave  all. 

The  crisis  or  turn  of  the  disease,  had  been  so 
severe  as  to  assume  the  aspect  of  approaching  dis 
solution,  and  from  that  hour  the  precious  baby,  (the 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW.  265 

wilderness  is  the  place  to  love  children,)  began  to 
amend,  and  the  young  papa  with  it.  And  then" 
came  such  long  talks  about  the  past,  the  present, 
and  the  future  ;  such  minute  explanations  of  all 
feelings  and  plans ;  Everard  and  Cora  seemed  to 
live  a  whole  year  extra  in  these  few  weeks  which 
succeeded  the  time  of  this  sore  trial.  And  Cora  was 
a  new  creature,  a  rational  being,  a  mother,  a  matron, 
full  of  sorrow  for  the  past  and  of  sage  plans  for  the 
future. 

The  silent  disregard  of  the  letters  had  been  sys-  ^5^ 
tematic.  The  flying  pair  had  been  recognized  by 
some  person  on  their  journey  westward  ;  and  the 
parents,  indulgent  as  they  were,  felt  that  some  atone 
ment  was  ~  due  for  this  cruel  disregard  of  their  feel-  ~, 
ings,  and  forgetfulness  of  the  common  obligations. 
When  months  passed  on  without  any  evidence  of 
repentance' they  felt  still  more  deeply;  hurt,  as  well 
as  s^riousl^anxipus ;  and  though  Everard's  letters 
relievecTm  some  measure  their  solicitude  for  the 
welfare  of  their  undutiful  children,  it  was  not  until 
Cora  wrote  to  her  mother,  that  the  visit  was  resolv 
ed  on  which  proved  so  opportune  and  so  delightful. 

And  there  was  more  to  be  told.  Fortune  had  be 
come  weary  of  smiling  on  the  long-established  house 
of  Hastings  and  Mansfield,  and  heavy  losses  had 
much  impaired  the  worldly  means  of  these  worthy 
people.  The  summer-palaces  on  the  Hudson  were 
about  to  pass  into  other  hands,  and  great  changes 
were  to  be  made  in  many  particulars.  And  Ever 
ard  must  get  his  own  living.  This  was  a  thing 
which  Cora  at  least  had  never  included  in  her 
plans. 

After  much  consultation  it  was  conceded  on  all 
hands,  that  it  would  be  rather  awkward  returning 


266  A     NEW     HOME, 

to  Mr  J.'s  office  after  this  little  excursion.  A  frolic 
is  a  frolic  to  be  sure,  but  people  don't  always  take 
the  view  we  wish  them  to  take  of  our  vagaries.  Mr 
Mansfield  proposed  his  Michigan  lands. 

And  Everard,  and  his  subdued  and  humbled  but 
happy  Cora,  confessed  that  they  had  imbibed  a  taste 
for  the  wilderness,  an  unfashionable  liking  for  early 
rising  and  deshabille  ;  a  yearning,  common  to  those 
who  have  lived  in  the  free  woods, 

To  forsake 
Earth's  troubled  waters  for  a  purer  spring. 

Visionary  still !  says  the  reader.  Perhaps  so  ;  but 
to  Michigan  they  came,  and  with  a  fine  large  fertile 
tract,  managed  by  a  practical  farmer  and  his  family, 
they  find  it  possible  to  exist,  and  are,  I  had  almost 
said,  the  happiest  people  of  my  acquaintance. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  267 


CHAPTER  XL1II. 


On   ne  doit  pas  juger  du  merite  d'un  homme  par  sea  grandea    qualites,  ' 
mais  par  1'usage  qu'il  en  sait  faire.  ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

Des  mots  longs  d'une  toise, 
De  grands  mots  qui  tiendroint  d'ici  jusqu'  a  Pontoise. 

RACINE. — LES  PLAIDEURS. 

But  what  he  chiefly  valued  himself  on,  was  his  knowledge  of  metaphys 
ics,  in  which,  having  once  upon  a  time  ventured  too  deeply,  he  came  well 
nigh  being  smothered  in  a  slough  of  unintelligible  learning. 

IRVING. — KNICKERBOCKER. 

MR  SIMEON  JENKINS  entered  at  an  early  stage 
of  his  career  upon  the  arena  of  public  life,  having 
been  employed  by  his  honored  mother  to  dispose  of  a 
basket  full  of  hard  boiled  eggs,  on  election  day,  before 
he  was  eight  years  old.  He  often  dwells  with  much 
unction  upon  this  his  debut ;  and  declares  that  even 
at  that  dawning  period  he  had  cut  his  eye-teeth. 

<  There  wasn't  a  feller  there,'  Mr  Jenkins  often 
says,  '  that  could  find  out  which  side  I  was  on,  for 
all  they  tried  hard  enough.  They  thought  I  was 
soft,  but  1  let'em  know  1  was  as  much  baked  as  any 
on'em.  *  Be  you  a  dimocrat  ?  '  says  one.  Buy 
some  eggs  and  I'll  tell  ye,  says  I ;  and  by  the  time 
he'd  bought  his  eggs,  I  could  tell  well  enough  which 
side  he  belonged  to,  and  I'd  hand  him  out  a  ticket 
according,  for  I  had  blue  ones  in  one  end  o'  my 
basket,  and  white  ones  in  the  other,  and  when  night 


268  A     NEW     HOME, 

come,  and  I  got  off  the  stump  to  go  home,  T  had 
eighteen  shillin  and  fourpence  in  my  pocket.' 

From  this  auspicious  commencement  may  be 
dated  Mr  Jenkins's  glowing  desire  to  serve  the  pub 
lic.  Each  successive  election-day  saw  him  at  his 
post.  From  eggs  he  advanced  to  pies,  from  pies  to 
almanacs,  whiskey,  powder  and  shot,  foot-balls,  play 
ing-cards,  and  at  length,  for  ambition  ever  'did  grow 
with  what  it  fed  on,'  he  brought  into  the  field  a  large 
turkey,  which  was  tied  to  a  post  and  stoned  to  death 
at  twenty-five  cents  a  throw.  By  this  time  the  still 
youthful  aspirant  had  become  quite  the  man  of  the 
world  ;  could  smoke  twenty-four  cigars  per  diem,  if 
any  body  else  would  pay  for  them  ;  play  cards  in 
old  Hurler's  shop  from  noon  till  day-break,  and  rise 
winner ;  and  all  this  with  suitable  trimmings  of  gin 
and  hard  words.  But  he  never  lost  sight  of  the 
main-chance.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  serve 
his  country,  and  he  was  all  this  time  convincing  his 
fellow-citizens  of  the  disinterested  purity  of  his  senti 
ments. 

'  Patriotism  ! '  he  would  say,  '  patriotism  is  the 
thing !  any  man  that's  too  proud  to  serve  his  coun 
try  aint  fit  to  live.  Some  thinks  so  much  o'  them 
selves,  that  if  they  can't  have  jist  what  they  think 
they're  fit  for,  they  won't  take  nothin  ;  but  for  my 
p^rt,  /  call  myself  an  American  citizen  ;  and  any 
office  that's  in  the  gift  o'  the  people  will  suit  me. 
I'm  up  to  any  thing.  And  as  there  aint  no  other 
man  about  here, — no  suitable  man,  I  mean, — that's 
got  a  horse,  why  I'd  be  willing  to  be  constable,  if  the 
people's  a  mind  to,  though  it  would  be  a  dead  loss 
to  me  in  my  business  to  be  sure ;  but  I  could  do 
any  thing  for  my  country.  Hurra  for  patriotism  ! 
them's  my  sentiments.' 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  269 

It  can  scarcely  be  doubted  tbat  Mr  Jenkins  be 
came  a  very  popular  citizen,  or  that  he  usually  play 
ed  a  conspicuous  part  at  the  polls.  Offices  began  to 
fall  to  his  share,  and  though  they  were  generally 
such  as  brought  more  honor  than  profit,  office  is 
office,  and  Mr  Jenkins  did  not  grumble.  Things 
were  going  on  admirably. 

The  spoils  of  office  glitter  in  his  eyes, 
He  climbs,  he  pants,  he  grasps  them — 

or  thought  he  was  jnst  going  to  grasp  them,  when, 
presto  !  he  found  himself  in  the  minority  ;  the  wheel 
of  fortune  turned,  and  Mr  Jenkins  and  his  party 
were  left  undermost.  Here  was  a  dilemma  !  His 
zeal  in  the  public  service  was  ardent  as  ever,  but 
how  could  he  get  a  chance  to  show  it  unless  his 
party  was  in  power  ?  His  resolution  was  soon 
taken.  He  called  his  friends  together,  mounted  a 
stump,  which  had  fortunately  been  left  standing  not 
far  from  the  door  of  his  shop,  and  then  and  there 
gave  '  reasons  for  my  ratting '  in  terms  sublime 
enough  for  any  meridian. 

*  My  friends  and  feller-citizens,'  said  this  self- 
sacrificing  patriot,  '  I  find  myself  conglomerated  in 
sich  a  way,  that  my  feelins  suffers  severely.  I'm 
sitivated  in  a  peculiar  sitivation.  ()'  one  side,  I  see 
my  dear  friends,  pussonal  frienr's — friends,  that's 
stuck  to  me  like  wax,  through  thick  and  thin,  never 
shinnyin  off  and  on,  but  up  to  the  scratch,  and  no 
mistake.  O'  t'other  side  I  behold  my  country,  my 
bleedin  country,  the  land  that  fetch'd  me  into  this 
world  o'  trouble.  Now,  since  things  be  as  they  be, 
and  can't  be  no  otherways  as  I  see,  I  feel  kind  o' 
screwed  into  an  auger-hole  to  know  what  to  do.  If 
I  hunt  over  the  history  of  the  universal  world  from 
24 


270 


A     NEW     HOME 


the  creation  of  man  to  the  present  day,  I  see-  that 
men  has  always  had  difficulties  ;  and  that  some  haa 
took  one  way  to  get  shut  of  'em,  and  some  another. 
My  candid  and  unrefragable  opinion  is,  that  rather 
than  remain  useless,  buckled  down  to  the  shop,  and 
indulging  in  selfishness,  it  is  my  solemn  dooty  to 
change  my  ticket.  It  is  severe,  my  friends,  but 
dooty  is  dooty.  And  now,  if  any  man  calls  me  a 
turn-coat,'  continued  the  orator,  gently  spitting  in 
his  hands,  rubbing  them  together,  and  rolling  his 
eyes  round  the  assembly,  '  all  I  say  is,  let  him  say 
it  so  that  I  can  hear  him.' 

The  last  argument  was  irresistible,  if  even  the 
others  might  have  brooked  discussion,  for  Mr  Jen 
kins  stands  six  feet  two  in  his  stockings,  when  he 
wears  any,  and  gesticulates  \\ilh  a  pair  of  arms  as 
long  and  muscular  as  Rob  Roy's.  So,  though 
the  audience  did  not  cheer  him,  they  contented 
themselves  with  dropping  off  one  by  one,  without 
calling  in  question  the  patriotism  of  the  rising 
statesman. 

The  very  next  election  saw  Mr  Jenkins  justice  of 
the  peace,  and  it  was  in  this  honorable  capacity  that 
I  have  made  most  of  my  acquaintance  with  him, 
though  we  began  with  threatenings  of  a  storm.  He 
called  to  take  the  acknowledgement  of  a  deed,  and 
I,  anxious  for  my  country's  honor,  for  J  too  am 
something  of  a  patriot  in  my  own  way,  took  the 
liberty  of  pointing  out  to  his  notice  a  trifling  slip  of 
the  pen  ;  videlicet,  '  Justas  of  Piece,'  which  manner 
of  writing  those  words  I  informed  him  had  gone  out 
of  fashion. 

He   reddened,  looked   at  me  very  sharp  for  a  mo- 

Tent,  and  then  said  he  thanked  me  ;  but  subjoined, 
'  Book-learning  is  a  good  thing  enough  where 


POLL  O  W  ?  271 

there  aint  too  much  of  it.     For  my  part,  I've  seen  a  I 
good  many  that  know'd  books  that  didn't  know  / 
much  else.     The  proper  cultivation  and  edication  of/ 
the    human   intellect  has  been  the  comprehensive 
study  of  the  human  understanding  from  the  origin 
al  creation  of  the  universal  world  to  the  present  day, 
and  there  has  been  a  good  many  ways  tried  besides 
book-learning.     Not  but  what  that's  very  well  in  its ,' 
place.' 

And  the  justice  took  his  leave  with  somewhat  of 
a  swelling  air.  But  we  are  excellent  friends,  not 
withstanding  this  hard  rub  ;  and  Mr  Jenkins  favors 
me  now  and  then  with  half  an  hour's  conversation, 
when  he  has  had  leisure  to  read  up  for  the  occasion 
in  an  odd  volume  of  the  Cyclopedia,  which  holds  an 
honored  place  in  a  corner  of  his  shop.  He  ought  in 
fairness,  to  give  me  previous  notice,  that  I  might 
study  the  dictionary  a  little,  for  the  hard  words,  with 
which  he  arms  himself  for  these  '  keen  encounters,' 
often  push  me  to  the  very  limits  of  my  English. 

I  ought  to  add,  that  Mr  Jenkins  has  long  since 
left  off  gambling,  drinking,  and  all  other  vices  of 
that  class,  except  smoking  ;  in  this  point  he  professes 
to  be  incorrigible.  But  as  his  wife,  who  is  one  of 
the  nicest  women  in  the  world,  and  manages  him 
admirably,  pretends  to  like  the  smell  of  tobacco,  and 
takes  care  never  to  look  at  him  when  he  disfigures 
her  well-scoured  floor,  I  am  not  without  hopes  of  his 
thorough  reformation. 


272  A     NEW      HOME 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


Dandin.     Ta,  ta,  ta,  ta.     Voila  hien  instruire  une  affaire  ! 
A-t-on  jamais  pluide  d'une  telle  me'thotie  ? 
Mais  qu'en  dit  I'assemblde  ? 
*  *  *  *  *  * 

Ma  foi !   je  n'  y  concois  plus  rien. 
De  monde,  de  cliaos,  j'at  la  tete  trouble. 
H6  !   concluez. 

RACINE. — LES  PLAIDEURS. 


IT  was  '  an  honor  that  I  dreamed  not  of,'  to  be 
called  before  this  same  squire  Jenkins  in  his  dignifi 
ed  capacity  of  '  Justas.'  i  had  not  even  heard  a 
murmur  of  the  coming  storm,  when  I  was  served 
with  a  subpoena,  and  learned  at  the  same  time  the 
astounding  fact,  that  at  least  half  the  Montacute 
Female  Beneficent  Society  were  about  to  receive  a 
shilling's  worth  of  law  on  the  same  occasion.  A 
justice  court ! 

My  flesh  did  creep,  and  each  particular  hair 
Did  stand  on  end — 

but  there  was  no  remedy. 

The  court  was  to  be  held  at  the  Squire's,  and  as 
Mrs  Jenkins  was  a  particular  friend  of  mine,  I  went 
early,  intending  to  make  her  a  call  before  the  awful 
hour  should  approach,  and  hoping  that  in  the  inter 
val  I  might  be  able  to  learn  something  of  the  case 
in  which  I  was  expected  to  play  the  important  part 
of  witness. 


FOLLOW?  273 

But  good  Mrs  Jenkins,  who  was  in  her  Sunday 
gown  and  looked  very  solemn,  considered  herself 
bound  to  maintain  an  official  mysteriousness  of  de 
portment,  and  she  therefore  declined  entering  upon 
the  subject  which  was  so  soon  to  come  under  the 
cognizance  of  '  the  good  people  of  this  State.'  All 
she  would  be  persuaded  to  say  was,  that  it  was  a 
slander  suit,  and  that  she  believed  l  women-folks ' 
were  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

But  ere  long  the  more  prominent  characters  of 
the  drama  began  to  drop  in.  Mrs  Flyter  and  her 
*old  man,'  and  two  babies  were  among  the  first,  and 
the  lady  looked  so  prodigiously  sulky,  that  1  knew 
she  was  concerned  in  the  fray  at  least.  Then  en 
tered  Squire  Jenkins  himself,  clean  shaved  for  once, 
and  arrayed  in  his  meetin  coat.  He  asked  his  wife 
where  the  pen  and  ink  was,  and  said  he  should 
want  some  paper  to  write  down  the  '  dispositions.' 

And  the  next  comer  was  the  plaintiff,  the  Schnei 
der  of  our  village,  no  Robin  Starveling  he,  but  a 
magnificent  Hector-looking  fellow,  tall  enough  to 
have  commanded  Frederick  of  Prussia's  crack  regi 
ment  ;  and  so  elegantly  made,  that  one  finds  it  hard 
to  believe  his  legs  have  ever  been  crossed  on  a  shop- 
board.  The  beetle-brows  of  this  stitching  hero  were 
puckered  like  the  seams  of  his  newest  'prentice,  and 
he  cast  magnanimous  glances  round  the  assembly, 
as  who  should  say — 

Come  one,  come  all!   this  rock  shall  fly 
From  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  I ! 

Though  the  rock  was  but  slenderly  represented 
by  Mrs  Jenkins's  bureau,  against  which  he  leaned. 

The  world  now  began  to  flock  in.  The  chairs 
were  soon  filled,  and  then  the  outer  edges  of  the  two 
24* 


274  A     NEW     HOME, 

beds.  Three  young  pickles  occupied  the  summit  of 
the  bureau,  to  the  imminent  jeopardy  of  the  mirror 
ed  clock  which  shone  above  it.  Boards  were  laid  to 
eke  out  the  chairs,  and  when  the  room  was  packed 
so  that  not  a  chink  remained,  a  sensation  was  cre 
ated  by  the  appearance  of  Mrs  Nippers  and  Miss 
Clinch.  Much  turning  out  and  tumbling  over  was 
now  to  be  done,  although  those  active  laofies  appear 
ed  less  than  usually  desirous  of  attracting  attention. 

All  was  at  length  ready,  and  the  squire  opened 
the  court  by  blowing  his  ncse  without  calling  upon 
his  pocket  handkerchief. 

What  was  my  surprise  when  I  learned  that  our 
'most,  magnanimous  mouse,'  Mr  Shafton,  the  tailor, 
had  been  set  down  a  thief;  and  that  Mr  Flyter  had 
been  called  on,  by  the  majesty  of  law,  to  answer  for 
the  calumny  ;  not  that  he  had  ever  thought  of  bring 
ing  such  a  charge  against  his  neighbor,  for  he  was 
a  silent  man,  who  always  had  his  niouih  too  full  of 
tobacco  to  utter  slander,  or  anything  else  ;  but  that 
his  lady,  on  a  certain  occasion  where  women  had 
convened  in  aid  of  one  of  the  afflicted  sister 
hood,  had,  mcst  '  tr?? prudently,'  as  she  said  herself, 
given  vent  to  certain  angry  feelings  towards  Mr 
Shaflon,  'in  manner  as  aforesaid.'  To  think  of 
bringing  a  woman  into  trouble  for  what  she  hap 
pened  to  say  after  tea  !  I  began  to  consider  Mr 
Shafton  as  no  more  than  the  ninth  part  of  a  man, 
after  all. 

Things  went  on  very  quietly  for  a  while.  The 
'.dispositions'  occupied  a  good  deal  of  time,  and  a 
vast  amount  of  paper;  the  scribe  fnding  the  pen 
less  germ  an  to  his  fingers  than  the  plough,  and 
making  his  lines  bear  no  small  resemblance  to  the 
furrows  made  by  a  l  breaking-up  team.'  But  when 


FOLLOW?  275 

the  ladies  began  to  figure  on  the  stage,  the  aspect  of 
affairs  was  altered.  Each  wished  to  tell  '  the  truth, 
the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth  ;  '  and 
to  ask  one  question,  elicited  never  less  than  one  doz 
en  answers;  the  said  answers  covering  a  much  larg 
er  ground  than  the  suit  itself,  and  bringing  forward 
the  private  affairs  and  opinions  of  half  the  village. 
In  vain  did  Mr  Jenkins  roar  '  silence  !  '  his  injunc 
tions  only  made  the  ladies  angry,  and  of  course  gave 
their  tongues  a  fresh  impetus. 

'  Cabbage  !  yes,  you  said  he  took  a  quarter  of  a 
yard  of  satinett,  and  that  that  was  as  bad  as  steal 
ing  !'  'Yes!  and  then  Miss  Flyter  said  he  did 
steal  cloth,  and  thread  and  buttons  too  !'  'Well, 
Miss  Nippers  told  me  so,  and  she  said  she  see  a 
chair-cushion  at  Miss  Shafton's,  that  was  made  all 
out  of  great  pieces  of  fulled  cloth!'  'Who?  I? 
O,  mercy  !  1  don't  believe  I  ever  said  such  a  word  ! ' 
'  O,  you  did,  you  did  !  I'm  williri  to  take  my  affer- 
davy  of  it!'  'Silence!'  vociferated  Squire  Jen 
kins.  '  Ladies,'  began  Mr  Phlatt,  the  plaintiff's 
counsel,  '  if  you  would  wait  a  minute  ' — 

In  vain — alas!   in  vain,  yc  gallant  few  ! 

In  vain  do  you  essay  to  control 

The    force   of  female   lungs, 
Sighs,  sobs  and  passions,  and  the  war  of  tongues. 

And  Mr  Phlatt  sat  down  in  despair,  looked  cut  of 
the  window,  and  drummed  on  the  table  with  his 
fingers,  as  if  to  pass  away  the  time  till  he  could  be 
heard. 

Squire  Jenkins,  who  was  but  newly  dignified, 
and  did  not.  like  to  proceed  to  extremities,  now  ad 
journed  the  court  for  one  hour,  a  recess  much  need 
ed  by  the  exhausted  stale  of  some  of  the  witnesses. 


276  A     NEW     HOME, 

During  this  interval,  and  while  the  wordy  war  was 
waxing  stronger  and  stronger,  Mr  Flyter  and  Mr 
Shafton  very  wisely  withdrew,  and  in  less  than  five 
minutes  returned,  and  informed  the  company  that 
they  had  *  settled  it.'  Mr  Flyter  was  to  pay  Mr 
Shafton  three  dollars  and  fifty  cents  worth  of  lum 
ber  for  his  character,  with  costs  of  suit ;  and  Mrs 
Flyter  was  to  unsay  all  she  had  said,  and  confess 
that  three  yards  of  satinett  for  a  pair  of  pantaloons, 
would  leave  the  tailor  no  more  than  his  regular  cab 
bage. 

So  here  was  four  hours'  time  of  something  near 
thirty  people  spent  to  good  purpose  in  chasing  a 
will-o'-the-wisp.  And  Montacute  sees  equally  im 
portant  suits  at  law  every  few  weeks  ;  expensive 
enough,  if  '  settled  '  midway  as  they  often  are,  be 
tween  the  parties  themselves  ;  still  more  so  if  left  to 
pursue  the  regular  course,  and  be  decided  by  the 
Justice. 

The  intelligence  of  the  '  settlement '  was  received 
with  various  aspects  by  the  persons  concerned.  The 
counsel  on  both  sides  were  of  course  disappointed,  for 
they  had  calculated  largely  upon  the  spunk  of  the 
splendid-looking  son  of  the  shears,  and  had  counted 
on  a  jury-trial  at  least,  if  not  an  appeal.  Mrs  Flyter 
was  evidently  much  relieved  to  find  that  she  had 
come  off  so  easily;  and  sundry  other  ladies,  who  had 
been  trembling  under  the  consciousness  of  conversa 
tional  'sins  unwhipped  of  justice,'  shawled  and  india- 
rubbered  with  more  than  usual  alacrity,  and  I  doubt 
not  made  vows  sincere,  whether  wefl-kept  or  not, 
to  let  their  neighbors'  business  alone  for  some  time. 

Mr  Jenkins  was  evidently  disappointed  at  the 
tame  result  of  so  much  glorious  preparation.  He 
had  made  up  his  own  mind  on  the  first  statement 


FOLLOW?  277 

of  the  case,  and  had  prepared  his  decision,  with  the 
addition  of  a  concise  view  of  the  universe  from  chaos 
to  the  present  day.  But  that  will  do  for  the  next 
time,  and  he  will  not  be  obliged  to  reserve  it  long. 
Eartholine  Saddletree  himself  would  weary  of  the 
*  never-ending,  still-beginning '  law-pleas  of  Monta- 
cute.  Bad  fences,  missing  dogs,  unruly  cattle,  pigs' 
ears,  and  women's  tongues,  are  among  the  most 
prolific  sources  of  litigation  ;  to  say  nothing  of  the 
satisfactory  amount  of  business  which  is  created  by 
the  collection  of  debts,  a  matter  of  '  glorious  uncer 
tainty  '  in  Michigan.  These  suits  are  so  frequent, 
that  they  pass  as  part  and  parcel  of  the  regular 
course  of  things  ;  and  you  would  find  it  impossible 
to  persuade  a  thorough-bred  Wolverine,  that  there 
was  anything  unfriendly  in  suing  his  next-door 
neighbor  for  a  debt  of  however  trifling  amount. 

Actions  for  trespass  and  for  slander  are  rather 
more  enjoyed,  as  being  somewhat  less  frequent ;  but 
anything  like  a  trial  will  always  be  enough  to  keep 
half  a  dozen  unconcerned  people  idle  for  a  day  or 
more. 

Mr  Shaftori's  spirited  defence  of  his  fair  fame 
will,  I  see  plainly,  prove  a  lasting  benefit  to  the  talk 
ing  sex  of  Montacute.  It  is  perfectly  incredible  how 
much  was  done  and  how  little  said  at  the  last  week's 
meeting  of  the  Female  Beneficent  Society.  Mrs 
Nippers  to  be  sure  had  the  ague,  and  did  her  chat 
tering  at  home,  and  Miss  Clinch  staid  to  take  care 
of  her,  as  in  duty  bound.  But  I  think  that  alone 
would  not  account  for  the  difference.  We  shall  see 
next  week. 


278  A      NEW     HOME, 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

See  !  sae  close  as  they're  written  down  to  the  very  seal !  and  a'  to  save 
postage ! 

ANTIQUARY. 

Jlnt.     We  sent  our  schoolmaster — 
Is  he  come  back? 

ANTONY  AND  CLEOPATRA. 

I  HAVE  departed  from  all  rule  and  precedent  in 
these  wandering  sketches  of  mine.  1  believe  I  set 
out,  a  great  many  pages  ago,  to  tell  of  the  interesting 
changes,  the  progressive  improvements  in  this  model 
of  a  village  of  ours.  My  intention,  as  far  as  I  had 
any,  was  to  convey  to  the  patient  reader  some  gen 
eral  idea  of  our  way  of  life  in  these  remote  and  for 
gotten  corners  of  creation.  But  I  think  I  have  dis 
covered  that  the  bent  of  my  genius  is  altogether  to 
wards  digression.  Association  leads  me  like  a  will- 
o'-the-wisp.  I  can  no  more  resist  following  a  new 
train  of  thought,  than  a  coquette  the  encouraging  of 
a  new  lover  at  the  expense  of  all  the  old  ones, 
though  often  equally  conscious  that  the  old  are  most 
valuable.  This  attempt  to  write  one  long  coherent 
letter  about  Montacute,  has  at  least  been  useful  in 
convincing  me  that  History  is  not  my  forte.  I  give 
up  the  attempt  in  despair,  and  lower  my  ambition 
to  the  collection  of  scattered  materials  for  the  use  of 
the  future  compiler  of  Montacutian  annals. 

Yet  it  seems  strange,  even  to  my  desultory  self, 
how  I  could  have  passed  in  silence  the  establishment 
of  a  weekly  mail,  that  sweetener  of  our  long  deli- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  279 

cious  winter  evenings — that  rich  atonement  for  all 
that  we  lack  of  fresh  scandal  and  new  news.  Since 
this  treasure  was  ours,  I  have  learned  to  pity  most 
sincerely  those  who  get  their  letters  and  papers  at 
all  sorts  of  unexpected  and  irregular  times;  a  shower 
of  scattering  fire,  feeble  and  ineffectual — a  dropping 
in  at  all  hours,  seasonable  and  unseasonable,  like 
some  classes  of  visitors ;  coming  often  when  one's; 
mood  is  anything  but  congenial ;  and  sure  to  stay 
away  when  one  longs  for  company — gay  ones  in 
truding  when  we  are  determined  to  be  blue  and 
miserable,  and  sad  ones  casting  their  long  shadows 
on  our  few  sunny  hours. 

But  a  weekly  mail !  a  budget  that  one  waits  and 
gets  ready  for  ;  a  regularly-recurring  delight,  an  un 
failing  pleasure,  (how  few  such  have  we  !)  hours, 
nay  days,  of  delicious  anticipation — sure  harvest  of 
past  care  and  toil,  an  inundation  of  happiness  !  Let 
no  one  think  he  has  exhausted  all  the  sources  of  en 
joyment  till  he  has  lived  in  the  back-woods  and 
learned  to  expect  a  weekly  mail  with  its  lap-full  of 
letters  and  its  tumulus  of  papers  ;  a  feast  enjoyed  by 
anticipation  for  a  whole  week  previous,  and  afford 
ing  ample  materials  for  resumies  for  that  which 
succeeds. 

This  pleasure  has  become  so  sacred  in  my  eyes, 
that  nothing  vexes  me  so  intolerably  as  seeing  our 
lanky  mail-bags  dangling  over  the  bony  sides  of 
Major  Bean's  lame  Canadian,  and  bestridden  and 
over-shadowed  by  the  portly  form  of  the  one-eyed 
Major  himself,  trotting  or  rather  hobbling  down 
Main-street  on  some  intermediate  and  unpremeditat 
ed  day.  Men  of  business  are  so  disagreeable  and 
inconsiderate  !  To  think  of  any  body's  sending 
fourteen  interminable  miles  over  bush  and  bog  to 


2SO  A     NEW      HOME, 

B***,  up  hill  both  ways,  as  every  one  knows,  just  to 
learn  the  price  of  flour  or  salt  three  days  sooner,  and 
thereby  spoiling  the  rest  of  the  week,  leaving  an 
objectless  blank  where  was  before  a  delicious  chaos 
of  hopes  ;  substituting  dull  certainty  for  the  exquisite 
flutterings  of  that  sort  of  doubt  which  leaves  us  after 
all  quite  sure  of  a  happy  result.  I  have  often 
thought  1  would  not  open  the  treasures  which 
reached  me  in  this  unauthorized,  over-the-wall  sort 
of  way.  1  have  declared  that  I  would  not  have 
Saturday  evening  spoiled  and  the  next  week  made 
ten  days  long.  But  this  proper  and  becoming  spirit 
has  never  proved  quite  strong  enough  to  bear  me 
through  so  keen  a  trial  of  all  feminine  qualities. 
One  must  be  more  or  less  than  woman  to  endure 
the  sight  of  unopened  letters  longer  than  it  takes  to 
find  the  scissors.  1  doubt  whether  Griselidis  herself 
would  not  have  blenched  at  such  a  requisition,  espe 
cially  if  she  had  been  transplanted  to  the  wilderness, 
and  left  behind  hosts  of  friends,  as  well  as  many 
other  very  comfortable  things. 

Another  subject  of  the  last  interest  which  I  have 
as  yet  wholly  neglected,  is  the  new  school-house,  a 
gigantic  step  in  the  march  of  improvement.  This, 
in  truth,  1  should  have  mentioned  long  ago,  if  I 
could  have  found  any  thing  to  say  about  it.  It  has 
caused  an  infinity  of  feuds,  made  mortal  enemies 
of  two  brothers,  and  separated  at  least  one  pair  of 
partners.  But  the  subject  has  been  exhausted,  worn 
to  shreds  in  my  hearing  ;  and  whenever  1  have 
thought  of  searching  for  an  end  of  the  tangled  clew, 
in  order  to  open  its  mazes  for  the  benefit  of  all  fu 
ture  school-committees  and  their  constituency,  I  have 
felt  that  every  possible  view  of  the  case  had  been  ap 
propriated,  and  therefore  must  be  borrowed  or  stolen 


FOLLOW?  281 

for  the  occasion.  I  might  indeed  have  given  a  de 
scription  of  the  building  as  it  now  smiles  upon  me 
from  the  opposite  side  of  the  public  square.  But  the 
reader  may  imagine  St.  Paul's,  St.  Peter's,  the  Par 
thenon,  the  Mosque  of  St.  Sophia,  or  any  edifice  of 
that  character,  and  then  think  of  the  Montacute 
school-house  as  something  inexpressibly  different, 
and  he  will  have  as  good  an  idea  of  it  as  I  could 
give  him  in  half  a  page.  I  think  it  resembles  the 
Temple  of  the  winds  more  nearly  than  any  other 
ancient  structure  I  have  read  of;  at  least,  I  have 
often  thought  so  in  cold  weather,  when  I  have  be 
guiled  the  hours  of  a  long  sermon  by  peeping 
through  the  cracks  at  the  drifting  snow ;  but  it  is 
built  of  unplaned  oak-boards,  and  has  no  underpin 
ning  ;  and  the  stove-pipe,  sticking  out  of  one  win 
dow,  looks  rather  modern  ;  so  the  likeness  might  not 
strike  every  body. 

The  school-ma'am,  Miss  Cleora  Jenkins,  I  have 
elsewhere  introduced  to  the  reader.  From  April  till 
October,  she  sways  '  the  rod  of  empire  ; '  and  truly 
may  it  be  said, 

There  through  the  summer-day 
Green  boughs  are  waving, 

though  I  believe  she  picks  the  leaves  off  as  tending 
to  defeat  the  ends  of  justice.  Even  the  noon-spell 
shines  no  holiday  for  the  luckless  subjects  of  her 
domination,  for  she  carries  her  bread  and  pickles 
rolled  up  in  her  pocket-handkerchief,  and  lunches 
where  she  rules,  reading  the  while  '  The  Children 
of  the  Abbey,' — which  took  her  all  summer, — and 
making  one  of  the  large  girls  comb  her  hair  by  the 
hour. 

During  the  snowy,  blowy,  wheezy,  and  freezy 
25 


282  A     NEW     HOME 


months,  the  chair  has  heen  taken— not  filled — by1 
Mr  Cyrus  Whicher,— not  Switcher,— a  dignitary 
who  had  'boarded  round  '  till  there  was  very  little 
of  him  left.  I  have  been  told,  that  when  he  first 
bore  the  birch, — in  his  own  hand  I  mean, —  he  was 
of  a  portly  and  rather  stolid  exterior  ;  had  gord  teeth 
and  flowing  locks  ;  but  he  was,  when  I  knew  him, 
a  mere  cuticle — a  'skellinton,'  as  Mr  Weller  would 
say — shaped  like  a  starved  greyhound  in  the  collaps 
ed  stage,  his  very  eyes  faded  to  the  color  of  the  skim- 
milk,  which  has  doubtless  constituted  his  richest  po 
tation  since  he  attained  the  empty  honors  of  a  dis 
trict  school. 

When  he  came  under  my  care,  in  the  course  of 
his  unhappy  gyrations,  I  did  my  best  to  fatten  him  ; 
and,  to  do  him  justice,  his  efforts  were  not  lacking  : 
but  one  cannot  make  much  progress  in  one  week, 
even  in  cramming  a  turkey  poult,  and  he  went  as 
ethereal  as  he  came. 

One  additional  reason  for  his  '  lean  and  hungry  ' 
looks  I  thought  I  discovered  in  his  gnawing  curiosi 
ty  of  soul — 1  suppose  it  would  be  more  polite  to  say, 
his  burning  thiist  for  knowledge.  When  he  first 
glided  into  my  one  only  parlor.  1  asked  him  (o  sit 
down,  expecting  to  hear  his  bones  rattle  as  he  did 
so.  To  my  astonishment  he  noticed  not  my  civili 
ty,  but  gazing  on  ihe  wall  as  who  should  say — 

1  Look  you,  how  pale  lie  glares  ! ' 

he  stood  as  one  transfixed. 

At  length — '  Whose  profile  is  that?  '  he  exclaim 
ed,  pointing  to  a  portrait  of  my  dear,  cheerful-look 
ing  grand-mamma — a  half-length,  by  Waldo. 

I  told  all  about  it,  as  I  thought,  but  left  room  for 
a  dozen  questions  at  least,  as  to  her  relationship — 
whether  by  father's  or  mothers  side — her  age  when 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  293 

ihe  picture  was  taken,  &c.  &c. ;  and  Mr  Whicher's 
concluding  remark,  as  he  doubled  up  to  sit  down, 
was — 

'  Well  !  she's  a  dreadful  sober-lookiri  old  critter, 
aint  she  now  ?  '  But  ere  he  touched  the  chair,  he 
opened  again  like  a  folded  rule  out  of  a  case  of  in 
struments,  and  stood  erect  save  head  and  shoulders. 
1  Is  that  a  pi-anner  ?  '  he  asked  with  a  sort  of 
chuckle  of  delight.  '  Well !  I  heard  you  had  one, 
but  I  didn't  hardly  believe  it.  And  what's  this 
thing?'  twirling  the  music-stool  with  all  his  might, 
and  getting  down  on  his  poor  knees  to  look  under 
neath  both  these  curiosities. 
'  Jist  play  on  it,  will  ye  ! ' 

'  Dinner  is  ready,  Mr  Whicher  :  I  will  play  after 
wards.' 

He  balanced  for  one  moment  between  inanition 
and  curiosity  ;  then,  '  with  his  head  over  his  shoul 
der  turn'd,'  he  concluded  to  defer  pleasure  to  busi 
ness.  He  finished  his  meal  by  the  time  others  had 
fairly  begun  ;  and  then,  throwing  himself  back  in 
his  chair,  said,  '  I'm  ready  whenever  you  be.' 

I  could  not  do  less  than  make  all  possible  speed, 
and  Mr  Whicher  sat  entranced  until  he  was  late  for 
school :  not  so  much  listening  to  the  tinkling  magic, 
as  prying  into  the  nature  and  construction  of  the  in 
strument,  which  he  thought  must  have  taken  'a 
good  bunch  of  cypherin.' 

That  week's  sojourn  added  a  good  deal  to  the 
school-master's  stores  of  knowledge.  .He  scraped  a 
little  of  the  crystallized  green  off  my  inkstand  to 
find  out  how  it  was  put  on  ;  pulled  up  a  corner  of 
the  parlor-carpet,  to  see  whether  it  was  '  wove  like  a 
bed  spread;'  whether  it  was  < over-shot  or  under 
shot  • '  and  not  content  with  ascertaining  by  pers3ii- 


284 


A     NEW     HOME, 


al  inspection  the  construction  of  every  article  which 
was  new  to  him,  he  pumped  dry  every  member 
of  the  household,  as  to  their  past  mode  of  life, 
future  prospects,  opinion  of  the  country,  religious 
views,  and  thoughts  on  every  imaginable  subject. 
I  began  to  feel  croupish  before  he  left  us,  from 
having  talked  myself  quite  out. 

One  of  his  habits  struck  me  as  rather  peculiar. 
He  never  saw  a  letter  or  a  sealed  paper  of  any  kind 
that  he  did  not  deliberately  try  every  possible  method, 
by  peeping,  squeezing,  and  poking,  to  get  at  its  con 
tents.  I  at  first  set  this  down  as  something  which 
denoted  a  more  than  usually  mean  and  dishonest 
curiosity  ;  but  after  I  had  seen  the  same  operation 
performed  in  my  presence  without  the  least  hesita 
tion  or  apology,  by  a  reverend  gentleman  of  high 
reputation,  1  concluded  that  the  poor  schoolmaster 
had  at  least  some  excuse  for  his  ill-breeding. 

Mr  Whicher  had  his  own  troubles  last  winter. 
A  scholar  of  very  equivocal,  or  rather  unequivocal 
character,  claimed  admission  to  the  school,  and,  of 
all  concerned,  not  one  had  courage  or  firmness  to 
object  to  her  reception.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a 
fierce,  quarrelsome  man,  who  had  already  injured, 
either  by  personal  abuse,  or  by  vexatious  litigation, 
half  the  people  in  the  place ;  and  though  all  detest 
ed  her,  and  dreaded  contamination  for  their  daugh 
ters,  not  a  voice  was  raised — not  a  girl  removed  from 
the  school.  This  cowardly  submission  to  open  and 
public  wrong -seems  hardly  credible;  but  T  have  ob 
served  it  in  many  other  instances,  and  it  has,  in  most 
cases,  appeared  to  arise  from  a  distrust  in  the  pro 
tecting  power  of  the  law,  which  has  certainly  been 
hitherto  most  imperfectly  and  irregularly  administer 
ed  in  Michigan.  People  suppress  their  just  indigna- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  285 

tion  at  many  abuses,  from  a  fear  that  they  may  'get 
into  trouble  ; '  i.  e.  be  haled  before  an  ignorant  jus 
tice  of  the  peace,  who  will  be  quite  as  likely  to  favor 
the  wrong  as  the  right,  as  interest  or  prejudice  may 
chance  to  incline  him.  Thus  a  bad  man,  if  he 
have  only  the  requisite  boldness,  may  trample  on 
the  feelings,  and  disturb  the  peace  of  a  whole  com- 
mnnity. 

V  When  Hannah  Parsons  applied  for  admission  to 
the  district  school,  Mr  Whicher  made  such  objec 
tions  as  he  dared  in  his  timidity.  He  thought  she 
was  too  old — her  mother  said  she  was  not  nineteen, 
though  she  had  a  son  of  two  years  and  upwards. 
And  she  did  not  wish  to  study  anything  but  arith 
metic  and  writing  ;  so  that  there  could  be  no  objec 
tion  as  to  classes.  And  the  wretched  girl  forced  her 
self  into  the  ranks  of  the  young  and  innocent,  for 
what  purpose  or  end  I  never  could  divine. 

From  this  hour  the  unfortunate  Whicher  was  her 
victim.  She  began  by  showing  him  the  most  defer 
ential  attention,  watching  his  looks,  and  asking  his 
aid  in  the  most  trivial  matters  ;  wanting  her  pen 
mended  twenty  times  in  the  course  of  one  copy,  and 
insisting  upon  the  school-master's  showing  her  again 
and  again  exactly  how  it  should  be  held.  She 
never  went  to  school  without  carrying  a  tribute  of 
some  sort,  a  custard,  or  an  apple, — apples  are  some 
thing  with  us, — or  a  geranium-leaf  at  least.  Now 
these  offerings  are  so  common  among  school-chil 
dren,  that  the  wretched  master,  though  writhing 
with  disgust,  knew  not  how  to  refuse  them,  and  his 
life  wore  away  under  the  anguish  inflicted  by  his 
tormentor. 

Ai  length  it  was  whispered  that  Hannah  Parsons 
25* 


286  A     NEW     HOME 


would  again  bring  to  the  eye  of  day  a  living  evi 
dence  of  her  shame ;  and  the  unfortunate  school 
master  saw  himself  the  victim  of  a  conspiracy. 

It  needed  but  this  to  complete  his  destraction.  He 
fled  in  imbecile  despair ;  and  after  the  wonder  had 
died  away,  and  the  scandal  had  settled  on  the  right 
head,  we  heard  no  word  of  the  innocent  pedagogue 
for  a  long  time.  But  after  that  came  news,  that 
Cyrus  Whicher,  in  the  wretchedness  of  his  poverty, 
had  joined  a  gang  of  idlers  and  desperadoes,  who 
had  made  a  vow  against  honest  industry  ;  and  it  is 
not  now  very  long  since  we  learned  that  he  had  the 
honor  of  being  hanged  at  Toronto  as  a  *  Patriot.' 


FOLLOW?  287 


CHAPTER  XLVL 


Go  with  speed 

To  some  forlorn  and  naked  hermitage, 
Remote  from   all  the  pleasures  of  the  world; 
There  stay  until  the  twelve  celestial  signs 
Have  hrought  about  their  annual  reckoning. 

If  this  austere,  insociable  life 

If  frosts  and  fasts,  hard  lodging  and  thin  weeds 

Nip  not  the  gaudy  blossoms  of  your  pride- 

Lovt's  LABOR  LOST. 

They  wear  themselves  in  the  cap  of  time  there  ;  do  muster  true  gait, 
eat,  speak,  and  move,  under  the  influence  of  the  most  received  star ;  and 
though  the  devil  lead  the  measure,  such  are  to  be  followed. 

ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL. 


ONE  must  come  quite  away  from  the  conve 
niences  and  refined  indulgences  of  civilized  life  to 
know  any  thing  about  them.  To  be  always  inun 
dated  with  comforts  is  but  too  apt  to  make  us  proud, 
selfish,  and  ungrateful.  The  mind's  health,  as  well 
as  the  body's,  is  promoted  by  occasional  privation  or 
abstinence.  Many  a  sour-faced  grumbler  I  wot  of, 
would  be  marvellously  transformed  by  a  year's  resi 
dence  in  the  woods,  or  even  in  a  Michigan  village 
of  as  high  pretensions  as  Montacute.  If  it  were  not 
for  casting  a  sort  of  dishonor  on  a  country  life,  turn 
ing  into  a  magnificent  *  beterinhaus  '  these 


288  A     NEW     HOME 


'  Haunts  of  deer, 

And  lanes  in  which  the  primrose  ere  her  time 
Peeps  through  the  moss,' 

I  should  be  disposed  to  recommend  a  course  of 
Michigan  to  the  Sybarites,  the  puny  exquisites,  the 
;  world-worn  and  sated  Epicureans  of  our  cities.  If 
1  mistake  not,  they  would  make  surprising  advances 
in  pbilosophy  in  tbe  course  of  a  few  months'  train 
ing.  I  should  not  be  severe  either.  I  should  not 
require  them  to  come  in  their  strictly  natural  condi 
tion  as  featherless  bipeds.  I  would  allow  them  to 
bring  many  a  comfort — nay,  even  some  real  luxu- 
;  ries;  books,  for  instance,  and  a  reasonable  supply  of 
New- York  Safety-Fund  notes,  the  most  tempting 
form  which  '  world's  gear '  can  possibly  assume  for 
our  western,  wild-cat  wearied  eyes.  I  would  grant 
to  each  neophyte  a  ready-made  loggery,  a  garden 
fenced  with  tamarack  poles,  and  every  facility  and 
convenience  which  is  now  enjoyed  by  the  better 
class  of  our  settlers,  yet  I  think  I  might  after  all 
hope  to  send  home  a  reasonable  proportion  of  my 
subjects  completely  cured,  sane  for  life. 

1  have  in  the  course  of  these  detached  and  des 
ultory  chapters,  hinted  at  various  deficiencies  and 
peculiarities,  which  strike,  with  rather  unpleasant 
force,  the  new  resident  in  the  back-woods  ;  but  it 
would  require  volumes  to  enumerate  all  the  cases  in 
which  the  fastidiousness,  the  taste,  the  pride,  the 
self-esteem  of  the  refined  child  of  civilization,  must 
be  wounded  by  a  familiar  intercourse  with  the  per 
sons  among  whom  he  will  find  himself  thrown,  in 
the  ordinary  course  of  rural  life.  He  is  continually 
reminded  in  how  great  a  variety  of  particulars  his 
necessities,  his  materials  for  comfort,  and  his  sources 
of  pain,  are  precisely  those  of  the  humblest  of  his 


FOLLOW?  289 

neighbors.  The  humblest  did  I  say?  He  will  find 
that  he  has  no  humble  neighbors.  He  will  very 
soon  discover,  that  in  his  new  sphere,  no  act  of  kind 
ness,  no  offer  of  aid,  will  be  considered  as  any  thing 
short  of  insult,  if  the  least  suspicion  of  condescension 
peep  out.  Equality,  perfect  and  practical,  is  the 
sine  qua  non  ;  and  any  appearance  of  a  desire  to 
avoid  this  rather  trying  fraternization,  is  invariably 
met  by  a  fierce  and  indignant  resistance.  The 
spirit  in  which  was  conceived  the  motto  of  the 
French  revolution,  l  La  fraternite  ou  la  inort,'  exists 
in  full  force  among  us,  though  modified  as  to  results. 
In  cities  we  bestow  charity — in  the  country  we  can 
only  exchange  kind  offices,  nominally  at  least.  If 
you  are  perfectly  well  aware  that  your  nearest  neigh 
bor  has  not  tasted  meat  in  a  month,  nor  found  in 
his  pocket  the  semblance  of  a  shilling  to  purchase  it, 
you  must  not  be  surprised,  when  you  have  sent  him 
a  piece,  to  receive  for  reply, 

1  O  !  your  pa  wants  to  change,  does  he  ?  Well, 
you  may  put  it  down.'  And  this  without  the  re 
motest  idea  that  the  time  for  repayment  ever  will 
arrive,  but  merely  to  avoid  saying  1 1  thank  you,'  a 
phrase  especially  eschewed,  so  far  as  I  have  had 
opportunity  to  observe. 

This  same  republican  spirit  is  evinced  rather 
amusingly,  in  the  reluctance  to  admire,  or  even  to 
approve,  any  thing  like  luxury  or  convenience 
which  is  not  in  common  use  among  the  settlers. 
Your  carpets  are  spoken  of  as  '  one  way  to  hide 
dirt ; '  your  mahogany  tables,  as  '  dreadful  plaguy  to 
scour  ; '  your  kitchen  conveniences,  as  *  lumberin  up 
the  house  for  nothin  ; '  and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the 
chapter.  One  lady  informed  me,  that  if  she  had 
such  a  pantry  full  of  '  dishes,'  under  which  general 

. 

^  « 


290  A      NEW     HOME, 

term  is  included  every  variety  of  china,  glass  and 
earthenware,  she  should  set  up  store,  and  '  sell  them 
ofT  pretty  quick,'  for  she  would  not  i  be  plagued  with 
them.'  Another,  giving  a  slighting  glance  at  a 
French  mirror  of  rather  unusual  dimensions,  larger 
by  two  thirds,  T  verily  believe,  than  she  had  ever 
seen,  remarked,  '  that  would  be  quite  a  nice  glass,  if 
the  frame  was  done  over.' 

Others  take  up  the  matter  reprovingly.  They 
1  don't  think  it  right  to  spend  money  so  ; '  they  think 
too,  that  '  pride  never  did  nobody  no  good  ; '  and 
some  will  go  so  far  as  to  suggest  modes  of  disposing 
of  your  superlluities. 

'  Any  body  that's  got  so  many  dresses,  might 
afford  to  give  away  half  ori'em  ; '  or  1 1  should  think 
-  you'd  got  so  much  land,  you  might  give  a  poor  man 
a  lot,  and  never  miss  it.'  A  store  of  any  thing, 
however  simple  or  necessary,  is,  as  I  have  elsewhere 
observed,  a  subject  of  reproach,  if  you  decline  sup 
plying  whomsoever  may  bs  deficient. 
*/-  f  This  simplification  of  life,  this  bringing  down  the 
transactions  of  daily  intercourse  to  the  original  prin 
ciples  of  society,  is  neither  very  eagerly  adopted,  nor 
very  keenly  relished,  by  those  who  have  been  ac 
customed  to  the  politer  atmospheres.  They  rebel 
most  determinedly,  at  first.  They  perceive  that  the 
operation  of  the  golden  rule,  in  circumstances  where 
it  is  all  give  on  one  side,  and  all  take  on  the  other, 
must  necessarily  be  rather  severe  ;  and  they  declare 
manfully  against  all  impertinent  intrusiveness.  But, 
sooth  to  say,  there  are  in  the  country  so  many  ways 
of  being  made  uncomfortable  by  one's  most  insig 
nificant  enemy,  that  it  is  soon  discovered  that  war 
fare  is  even  more  costly  than  submission. 

And  all  this  forms  part  of  the  schooling  which  I 


FOLLOW?  291 

propose  for  my  spoiled  child  of  refined  civilization. 
And  although  many  of  these  remarks  and  requisi 
tions  of  our  unpolished  neighbors  are  unreasonable 
and  absurd  enough,  yet  some  of  them  commend 
themselves  to  our  better  feelings  in  such  a  sort,  that 
we  find  ourselves  ashamed  to  refuse  what  it  seemed 
at  first  impertinent  to  ask  ;  and  after  the  barriers  of 
pride  arid  prejudice  are  once  broken,  we  discover  a 
certain  satisfaction  in  this  homely  fellowship  with 
our  kind,  which  goes  far  towards  repaying  whatever 
sacrifices  or  concessions  we  may  have  been  induced 
to  make.  This  has  its  limits  of  course  ;  and  one 
cannot  help  observing  that  •  levelling  upwards  '  is 
much  more  congenial  to  '  human  natur,'  than  level 
ling  downwards.  The  man  who  thinks  you  ought 
to  spare  him  a  piece  of  ground  for  a  garden,  because 
you  have  more  than  he  thinks  you  need,  would  be 
far  from  sharing  with  his  poorer  neighbor  the  supe 
rior  advantages  of  his  lot.  He  would  tell  him  to' 
work  for  them  as  he  had  done. 

But  then  there  are,  in  the  one  case,  some  absolute 
and  evident  superfluities,  according  to  the  primitive 
estimate  of  these  regions  ;  in  the  other,  none.  The 
doll  of  Fortune,  who  may  cast  a  languid  eye  on  this 
homely  page,  from  the  luxurious  depths  of  a  velvet- 
cushioned  library-chair,  can  scarce  be  expected  to 
conceive  how  natural  it  may  be,  for  those  who  pos 
sess  nothing  beyond  the  absolute  requisites  of  exist 
ence,  to  look  with  a  certain  degree  of  envy  on  the 
extra  comforts  which  seem  to  cluster  round  the  path 
of  another;  and  to  feel  as  if  a  little  might  well  be 
spared,  where  so  much  would  still  be  left.  To  the 
tenant  of  a  log-cabin  whose  family,  whatever  be  its 
number?,  must,  burrow  in  a  single  room,  while  a  bed 
or  two,  a  chest,  a  table,  and  a  wretched  handful  of 


292  A     NEW     HOME, 

cooking  utensils,  form  the  chief  materials  of  com 
fort,  an  ordinary  house,  small  and  plain  it  may  be, 
yet  amply  supplied,  looks  like  the  very  home  of  lux 
ury.  The  woman  who  owns  but  a  suit  a-piece  for 
herself  and  her  children,  considers  the  possession  of 
an  abundant  though  simple  and  inexpensive  ward 
robe,  as  needless  extravagance  ;  and  we  must  scarce 
ly  blame  her  too  severely,  if  she  should  be  disposed 
to  condemn  as  penurious,  any  reluctance  to  supply 
her  pressing  need,  though  she  may  have  no  shadow 
of  claim  on  us  beyond  that  which  arises  from  her  be 
ing  a  daughter  of  Eve.  We  look  at  the  matter  from 
opposite  points  of  view.  Her  light  shows  her  very 
plainly,  as  she  thinks,  what  is  our  Christian  duty  ; 
we  must  take  care  that  ours  does  not  exhibit  too  ex 
clusively  her  envy  and  her  impertinence. 

The  inequalities  in  the  distribution  of  the  gifts  of 
fortune  are  not  greater  in  the  country  than  in  town, 
but  the  contrary ;  yet  circumstances  render  them 
more  offensive  to  the  less  favored  class.  The  deni 
zens  of  the  crowded  alleys  and  swarming  lofts  of 
our  great  cities  see,  it  is  true,  the  lofty  mansions,  the 
splendid  equipages  of  the  wealthy — but  they  are 
seldom  or  never  brought  into  contact  or  collision 
with  the  owners  of  these  glittering  advantages. 
And  the  extreme  width  of  the  great  gulf  between,  is 
almost  a  barrier,  even  to  all-reaching  envy.  But  in 
the  ruder  stages  of  society,  where  no  one  has  yet 
begun  to  expend  any  thing  for  show,  the  difference 
lies  chiefly  in  the  ordinary  requisites  of  comfort;  and 
this  comes  home  at  once  'to  men's  business  and  bos 
oms.'  The  keenness  of  their  appreciation,  and  the 
strength  of  their  envy,  bear  a  direct  proportion  to  the 
real  value  of  the  objects  of  their  desire  ;  and  when 
they  are  in  habits  of  entire  equality  and  daily  famili- 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  293 

arity  with  those  who  own  ten  or  twenty  times  as 
much  of  the  materiel  of  earthly  enjoyment  as 
themselves,  it  is  surely  natural,  however  provoking, 
that  they  should  not  be  studious  to  veil  their  long 
ings  after  a  share  of  the  good,  which  has  been  so 
bounteously  showered  upon  their  neighbors. 

I  am  only  making  a  sort  of  apology  for  the  foibles 
of  my  rustic  friends.     I  cannot  say  that  I  feel  rnuch\ 
respect   for  anything  which  looks  like  a  willingness  j 
to  live  at  others'  cost,  save  as  a  matter  of  the   last! 
necessity. 

I  was  adverting  to  a  certain  unreservedness  of 
communication  on  these  points,  as  often  bringing 
\vholesome  and  much  needed  ins! ruction  home  to 
those  whom  prosperity  and  indulgence  may  have 
rendered  unsyrnpathizing,  or  neglectful  of  the  kind 
ly  feelings  wiiich  are  among  the  best  ornaments  of 
our  nature. 

But  1  am  aware  that  T  have  already  been  adven 
turous,  far  beyond  the  hounds  of  prudence.  To 
hint  that  it  may  be  better  not  to  cultivate  too  far 
that  haughty  spirit  of  exclusiveness  which  is  the 
glory  of  the  fashionable  world,  is,  1  know,  hazardous 
in  the  extreme.  1  have  not.  so  far  forgotten  the 
rules  of  the  sublime  clique  as  not  to  realize,  that  in 
acknowledging  even  a  leaning  toward  the  'vulgar1' 
side,  1  place  myself  forever  beyond  its  pale.  But  I 
am  now  a  denizen  of  the  wild  woods — in  my  view, 
'no  mean  city'  to  own  as  one's  hcme ;  and  I  feel 
no  ambition  to  aid  in  the  formation  of  a  Monlacute 
aristocracy,  for  which  an  ample  field  is  now  open, 
and  all  the  proper  materials  are  at  hand.  What  lack 
we?  Several  of  us  have  as  many  as  three  cows  ; 
some  few,  carpets  and  shanty-kitchens  ;  and  one  or 
26 


294  A     NEW     HOME, 

two,  piano-fortes  and  silver  tea-sets.  I  myself,  asr 
dame  de  la  seigneurie,  have  had  secret  thoughts 
of  an  astral  lamp  ;  but  even  if  I  should  go  so  far,  I 
am  resolved  not  to  be  either  vain-glorious  or  over 
bearing,  although  this  kind  of  superiority  forms  the 
usual  ground  for  exclusiveness.  I  shall  visit  my 
neighbors  just  as  usual,  and  take  care  not  to  say  a 
single  word  about  dipped  candles,  if  1  can  possibly 
help  it. 


WHO'LL    FOLLOW?  295 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 


Why,  then,  a  final  note  prolong, 
Or  lengthen  out  a  closing  song? 

THE  growth  of  our  little  secluded  village  has 
been  so  gradual,  its^  prosperity  so  moderate,  and  its 
attempts  so  unambitious,  that  during  the  whole  three 
years  which  have  flown  since  it  knew  '  the  magic 
of  a  name,'  not  a  single  event  has  occurred  which 
would  have  been  deemed  worthy  of  record  by  any 
one  but  a  midge-fancier  like  myself.  Our  brief  an 
nals  boast  not  yet  one  page,  enlivened  by  those  at 
tractive  words,  '  prodigious  undertaking  !  '  '  brilliant 
success  !  '  '  splendid  fortune  !  '  *  race  of  enterprize  ! ' 
1  march  of  improvement ! '  *  cultivation  of  taste  ! ' 
•'  triumph  of  art ! '  '  design  by  Vitruvius  ! '  c  unequal 
led  dome  ! '  '  pinnacle  of  glory  ! '  Alas  !  the  mere 
enumeration  of  these  magnificent  expressions  makes 
our  insignificance  seem  doubly  insignificant !  like 
the  joke  of  our  school-days — '  Soared  aloft  on  eagles' 
wings — then  fell  flat  down,  on  father's  wood-pile.' 
Irredeemably  little  are  we  ;  unless,  which  Heaven 
forefend  !  a  rail-road  stray  our  way.  We  must  con 
tent  ourselves  with  grinding  the  grists,  trimming  the 
bonnets,  mending  the  ploughs,  and  schooling  the 
children,  of  a  goodly  expanse  of  wheat-fields,  with 
such  other  odd  jobs  as  may  come  within  the  abilities 


296  A      NEW      HOME, 

of  our  various  Jacks-of-all-tradee,  We  cannot  be 
metropolitan,  even  in  our  dreams  ;  for  Turnipdale 
has  secured  the  County  honors.  We  cannot  hope 
to  he  literary  ;  for  all  the  colleges  which  are  to  be 
tolerated  in  Michigan,  are  already  located.  The 
State-Prison  favors  Jacksonburg  ;  the  salt-works 
some  undistinguished  place  at  the  north-east ;  what 
is  left  for  Montacute  ? 

Alas  for  Tinkerville  !  less  happy  under  the  cruel 
blight  of  her  towering  hopes,  than  we  in  our  humble 
notelessness.  She  rose  like  a  rocket,  only  to  fall 
like  its  stick ;  and  baleful  were  (he  stais  that  signal 
ized  her  explosion.  Mournful  indeed  are  the  closed 
Avindows  of  her  porlicoed  edifices.  The  only  pleas 
urable  thought  which  arises  in  my  mind  at  the 
mention  of  her  name,  is  that  connected  with  her 
whilome  president.  Mrs  Rivers  is  coming  to  spend 
the  summer  with  Mrs  Daker,  while  Mr  Rivers  de 
parts  for  Texas  with  two  or  three  semblables,  to 
attempt  the  carving  out  of  a  new  home,  where  he 
need  not  '  work.'  1  shall  have  my  gentle  friend 
again  ;  and  her  life  will  not  lack  interest,  for  she 
brings  with  her  a  drooping,  delicate  baby,  to  borrow 
health  from  the  sunny  skies  and  soft  breezes  of 
Michigan. 

The  Female  Beneficent  Society  grows,  by  dire 
experience,  chary  of  news.  The  only  novel  idea 
broached  at  our  last  meeting,  was  that  of  a  nascent 
tendresse  between  Mrs  Nippers  and  Mr  Phlatt,  a 
young  lawyer,  whose  resplendent  l  tin,'  graces,  with 
in  the  last  month,  the  side-post  of  Squire  Jenkins's 
door.  I  have  my  doubts.  This  is  one  of  the  cases 
wherein  much  may  be  said  on  both  sides.  Mr 
Phlatt  is  certainly  a  constant  visitor  at  Mrs  Nip- 
pers's,  but  the  knowing  widow  does  not  live  alone. 


FOLLOW?  297 

He  praises  with  great  fervor  Mrs  Nippers's  tea  and 
biscuits,  but  then  who  could  do  less  ?  they  are  so 
unequivocally  perfect — and  besides,  Mr  Phlatt  has 
not  access  to  many  such  comfortable  tea-tables — and 
moreover,  when  he  praises  he  gazes,  but  not  invari 
ably  on  Mrs  Nippers.  I  am  not  convinced  yet.  Miss 
Clinch  has  a  new  French  calico,  couleur  de  rose, 
and  a  pink  lining  to  her  Tuscan.  And  she  is 
young  and  rather  pretty.  But  then,  she  has  no 
money  !  and  Mrs  Nippers  has  quite  a  pretty  little 
income — the  half-pay  of  her  deceased  Mr  Nippers, 
who  died  of  a  fever  at  Sacket's  Harbor — and  Mrs 
Nippers  has  been  getting  a  new  dress,  just  the  color 
of  blue-pill,  Dr  Teeny  says.  I  waver,  but  time  will 
bring  all  things  to  light. 

Mr  Hastings  goes  to  the  Legislature  next  winter ; 
and  he  is  beginning  to  collect  materials  for  a  house, 
which  will  be  as  nearly  as  may  be,  like  his  father's 
summer-palace  on  the  Hudson.  But  he  is  in  an 
other  county,  so  we  do  not  feel  envious.  Cora  will 
never  be  less  lovely,  nor  more  elegant,  nor  (whisper 
ed  be  it !)  more  happy  than  she  is  in  her  pretty  log- 
house.  And  the  new  house  will  be  within  the  same 
belt  of  maples  and  walnuts  which  now  encircles  the 
picturesque  cottage;  so  that  the  roses  and  honey 
suckles  will  tell  well ;  like  their  fair  mistress,  grace 
ful  and  exquisite  anywhere. 

Many  new  buildings  are  springing  up  in  Monta- 
cute.  Mr  Doubleday  has  ensconced  himself  and 
his  wife  and  baby,  in  a  white  and  green  tenement, 
neat  enough  even  for  that  queen  of  housewives  ;  and 
Betsey,  having  grown  stout,  scours  the  new  white- 
wood  floors,  a  merveille.  Loggeries  are  becoming 
scarce  within  our  limits,  and  many  of  our  ladies 
wear  silk  dresses  on  Sunday.  We  have  two  physi- 


298  A     NEW     HOME. 

cians,  and  two  lawyers,  or  rather  one  and  a  half. 
Squire  Jenkins  being  only  an  adopted  son  of  Themis. 
He  thought  it  a  pity  his  gift  in  the  talking  line  should 
not  be  duly  useful  to  the  public,  so  he  acts  as  advo 
cate,  whenever  he  is  not  on  duty  as  judge,  and  there 
by  ekes  out  his  bread  and  butter,  as  well  as  adds  to 
his  reputation.  And  in  addition  to  all  the  improve 
ments  which  I  have  recorded,  I  may  mention  that 
we  are  building  a  new  meeting-house,  and  are  soon 
to  have  a  settled  minister. 

And  now,  why  do  I  linger?  As  some  rustic 
damsel  who  has,  in  her  simplicity,  accepted  the  hur 
ried  '  Do  call  when  you  come  to  town,'  of  a  fine  city 
guest,  finds  that  she  has  already  outstaid  the  fash 
ionable  limit,  yet  hesitates  in  her  awkwardness 
when  and  how  to  take  leave  ;  so  I — conscious  that 
1  have  said  forth  my  little  say,  yet  scarce  knowing 
in  what  style  best  to  make  my  parting  reverence, 
have  prolonged  this  closing  chapter — a  '  conclusion 
wherein  nothing  is  concluded.'  But  such  simple 
and  sauntering  stories  are  like  Scotch  reels,  which 
have  no  natural  ending,  save  the  fatigue  of  those 
engaged.  So  I  may  as  well  cut  short  my  mazy 
dance  and  resume  at  once  my  proper  position  as  a 
1  wall  flower,' with  an  unceremonious  adieu  to  the 
kind  and  courteous  reader. 


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